Drive
by Ennui-EAF
Summary: Eliot hadn't seen this side of Parker before. The almost delicate control that was buried under the crazy... He'd known it was there, or at least he thought he had. But he hadn't seen it until he saw her drive. And man, it was hot.
1. Chapter 1

Drive – Chapter 1

She was doing it again. That damn right foot was propped up on her knee and was bouncing up and down like a pogo stick. She was shaking the whole couch. Eliot gritted his teeth and tried to focus on what Nate was saying, as he stood in front of the large screens detailing the next client.

"Now, this many mechanical failures on cars that had been steadily winning is just not normal," Nate was saying. "These are club events, so there's no governing body to investigate these events as a pattern. All the client has to go on is the word of mouth among the drivers that overlap races."

The client was a race car driver, one who'd had their car break down a few too many times after they'd started winning races. Rally car racing. Eliot liked the sport, thought it was more challenging, and more interesting than Nascar. After all, driving in a circle, versus driving on dirt and tarmak and gravel and around corners and over hills, all at top speeds… yeah. He'd take a rally any day. You saw some drivers with real chops at those events.

Parker was jiggling her foot a little more rapidly, like she was getting excited. Eliot was starting to consider picking her bodily up and setting her down on the floor. It was irritating.

"So what's the con?" Sophie was asking. "Shouldn't this be something a mechanic could figure out?"

Hardison shook his head. "No people in the position of authority to make it happen," he said. "There's a governing body for the pro rally circuit, but these are amateur events, and they pull people from all over. Too hard to monitor, if you're not looking for it."

"Right," Nate said. "So here's the plan." He turned and pointed to Eliot. Eliot grinned, knowing what was coming. "Eliot," he said, "You'll be going in as a driver."

Awesome. He numbered driving among his many talents. After all, a retrieval specialist did occasionally need to make a quick getaway.

"Parker, you're his co-driver, Sophie, you're a sponsor of the car, and Hardison, you're in the van."

Parker was practically bouncing like a top now.

"Ok, seriously?" Eliot had finally had it. "You sit still or I'll make you."

He was, of course, ignored. "I should be the driver!" Parker burst out.

Nate gave her a look. "Parker, we need Eliot to drive, the con requires us to win some of these races, or at least do well…"

"Hardison, look up Parker Jones on the amateur circuit, European," Parker chattered, her voice quick and eager and bubbly. Hardison blinked but started typing. "I love to drive," she exclaimed. "It's almost as good as rappelling, not quite, of course, but you can go so _fast_!"

Eliot, and the others all stared at what popped up on the screen. There was a grainy British newspaper photo, with a younger and clearly beaming Parker standing next to a beat-up and dirty car. "Holy hell," Eliot said blankly.

"Parker, you were a driver?" Sophie said in shock. "A real rally car driver?"

"Yep," Parker said blithely. "I love to drive."

"You won? Like, races?" Hardison said, disbelieving. He scrolled through the screens, articles and stats and other blurs of numbers popping up. "Damn, girl. You, like, WON races."

"I like to go fast," Parker said.

Nate cleared his throat. "Well. Ok. That changes things." He looked at Eliot, and Eliot, still somewhat befuddled by the notion that their crazy blonde thief had actually had a hobby that resulted in her interacting with other people and not just to lift their wallets, looked back. He shrugged.

"Parker will be the driver, and Eliot'll be your co-driver," Nate said. Nate looked again at the screen and shook his head. "Huh. This'll be interesting."

Parker was bouncing again, and Eliot heaved a sigh. One way or another, he was going to be trapped in a car with a slightly psychotic blonde. And she was going to be driving.

Eliot Spencer was a retrieval specialist. He went in, got the package, got out. Delivered the package. At least, that was what he used to do. Now he was a hitter for the Leverage team, and most days he preferred his current occupation. After all, he'd not only gotten to start being the 'good guy', he also managed to get himself a truly talent team. And one that had started to really mean something to him.

There was Nate. Sure, the guy had a drinking problem, but who was Eliot to judge? Nate didn't let it interfere with their work, and it usually didn't get in the way of their down time, either. The few times it had, Eliot had forgiven him. Eventually. Nate was… Nate. His mind worked in ways and on levels that Eliot had never been able to fathom. He was also one of the few guys that Eliot truly trusted in the world; he was willing to allow him a few quirks.

Sophie, she was… something. Their talented grifter who couldn't act to save her life. She was smooth and sexy and had the ability to tie men into worst kind of knots. Eliot had seen her string men along until the poor saps didn't even know their own names. And yet, she was the 'mother' of their ragged family of thieves. Sophie always seemed to know when one of them needed a pat on the back or a smack upside the head. Nate, he wasn't always tuned into if Eliot was having a bad morning, or if Parker was more tightly strung than usual, or if Hardison was being particularly nerdy.

Hardison, he was a nerd. Frankly, Eliot was a little surprised the guy didn't wear suspenders and glasses with tape on the bridge. But the guy had magic hands, Eliot would admit to that. There didn't seem to be any place he couldn't get into. Give him a computer and an internet connection and their jobs went so much more smoothly. Eliot wasn't such an egotist that he couldn't admit he liked not having to crack heads at every single door. Overriding the security and just walking in was much simpler. Too bad the jobs never seemed to _end_ that way, but at least they always seemed to start easy. Hardison was, he'd privately admit, a buddy. A friend. And while the guy made him nuts on a regular basis, well… you forgave friends for that. Usually.

And then there was Parker.

Parker… was crazy. Crazy talented, that was for sure, Eliot had never seen someone crack safes as fast as she did. Crazy fit, she pulled some rather impressive acrobatics on a regular basis. Parker and lasers… that was something to see. And then there was crazy… just crazy. She threw herself off buildings for fun, for Christsake. And there was no filter on her mouth, everything she thought came shooting straight out. At least it did, lately she seemed to finally be getting some of Sophie's teachings about behavior down. And she made a good partner, when she wasn't being crazy-crazy. She'd bullied Eliot into teaching her some more fighting skills, and given the fact that she was crazy-fit and so agile, she was pretty good. Eliot wasn't worried about loosing his place on the team, but it was nice to know that Parker could cover his back while he took care of business.

But Parker driving! He'd ridden in a car with her before. She was crazy. And he meant that, in every sense of the word.

Eliot tried to contemplate Parker racing. And his mind just kinda when kablooey.

He was dicing an onion for the chili he was fixing for dinner, and Parker wandered in. And by wandered, he meant sort of hopped, flipped and then slid until she was sitting on a stool. All without making a sound and being quiet enough that he wouldn't have noticed her if he hadn't been watching.

Parker leaned her chin on her hands, and watched his knife. Eliot studied her for a second. "So you can really drive," he said, scooping up some of the diced onion on his blade and tossing it in the skillet.

"Yep," Parker said. "I love to go fast."

Eliot snorted. "Yeah, I know." He finished the onion, and checked the heat of the skillet.

Parker cocked her head. "Why are you so surprised?" she asked.

Eliot stirred the onions in the sizzling butter lightly. "It just… doesn't seem like something you'd do," he said. "Lotta people around. Lots of people who are going to want to talk and take pictures and not have forks stabbed into them." He slid a sly glance at her.

Parker rolled her eyes and huffed a sigh. "At least I didn't use a knife," she muttered. And then pouted. "I can do people." Eliot didn't look at her but just raised an eyebrow. "I can," she insisted. "I've done people on cons." She paused. "Ok, wait, that doesn't sound right."

Eliot snorted a laugh. Then cleared his throat. "I get what you mean," he said.

"Besides, I need to know how to drive," Parker said, starting to twist back and forth on the stool. "Gotta make a getaway, you know."

Eliot smirked and reached for the ground beef. "Yeah, that's how I learned to drive," he said. "Got to stay ahead of the cops."

"Or Nate," Parker said cheerfully.

"Or Nate what?" said the man in question, stopping at the sound of his name.

Parker twisted around and twirled her feet on the rungs of the stool. "I drove away from you once," she said.

Nate swallowed his mouthful of whatever he was drinking a little hard. "You did?" he said. "I didn't think I'd gotten that close to you."

"You did," Parker said, "You just didn't know it. Because I drove away really fast."

Sophie chuckled from the couch. "That would do it."

Eliot was still mulling Parker driving. "I want to see you drive," he said. Parker swiveled back to face him. Meat sizzled and wafted fragrant up at him from the skillet. "I want to see you drive before I let you drive for the con," he clarified.

Nate frowned. "Eliot, she's got the perfect cover…" he started.

"Yeah, but I'm the one who has to ride with her," Eliot interrupted. "So I want to see how she drives first."

Parker grinned. "I won't kill you, Sparkey. Promise."

Eliot looked at her sideways again. He wasn't so sure about that.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Hardison had gotten them a car. A real, honest-to-god rally car. Eliot circled the bright blue, seriously souped-up Subaru Impreza and eyed it with approval. Yeah. This was a great car.

Parker apparently thought so too, because she was now cooing to 'Bertha', as she'd named it, from the driver's seat.

"Who's a good car? Aren't you? Yes, you are, what a pretty car…" she patted the dashboard and stroked the steering wheel. Eliot dropped into the passenger seat, noting the serious bolstering with approval, and eyed the little blonde.

"Such a nice, such a fast car," she kept cooing, hands smoothing now up and down the stick shift. Eliot watched her for a moment, before he realized what he was doing. He cleared his throat. Bad thoughts. Very bad.

"Alright, darlin', let's give this a shot," he said. He peered through the windshield. "Hardison said this was the only track that was closed today, so show me what you've got while no one's watching."

Parker gave a final pat to the dash. "Buckle up, Sparky," she said, strapping herself in and pulling on the helmet that she'd tossed delightedly in the back seat. Eliot reached around and did the same. No way was he riding with Parker if there wasn't proper safety equipment, he didn't care HOW good a driver she claimed to be.

Parker turned the key, and sighed in delight at the sound of the engine. "I can't wait until the turbo kicks in," she said with a breathy sound. Eliot tightened his seatbelt. Apparently this car was really pleasing Parker, and it was all just a little bit… dirty sounding.

She pulled the car out onto the track and came to an idling stop. "You ready, Eliot?" she said as she built up the revs, looking over at him, eyes sparkling and massive grin on her face. She looked like a woman about to open one helluva present, he thought. Most women, they got that way over something in a box with a pretty ribbon. Parker, it was a car. Well, hell with it.

"Yeah, let 'er rip," he said, and grinned back. And then bit back a yelp and just hung on.

Parker let her foot slip and they were off like a shot, tires spinning and dirt flying. Hell! They really were flying. Eliot couldn't see the speedometer, but that first turn was coming up awfully fast… and then they were sliding around, drifting through the corner and taking off again. A small hill, they were airborne. Another bend, then a series of curves…

They'd been driving hell-for-leather for a good five minutes before Eliot realized he felt good. Well, he _was_ being slung around a course at high speeds with a crazy woman behind the wheel, but setting that aside, he felt good. Parker was shifting and clutching and powering through this course like she'd been doing it all her life. He risked a glance over at the skinny little thief in the driver's seat, and had to grin. Her eyes were narrowed, jaw set, nostrils flared, and her focus was absolute. And he could almost hear the mental "Wheeee!" going on in her head.

They tore through the course, up, down, around and through. And finally Parker pulled up short into a handbrake turn at the finish, sliding to a stop nearly exactly where they'd started from.

She pulled her helmet off and looked at him. "Well?" she said, and grinned. A big, crazy, massive, beaming grin.

Eliot couldn't resist. He grinned right back. "Yeah, darlin', you sure as hell can drive," he said. "I'd say you've got this part of the con covered."

Something bubbled and lit in Parker's eyes that he didn't recognize, but that warmed him. It made him vaguely uncomfortable, and he pushed it to the side. "You want a turn?" she offered.

Eliot smirked, ignoring that odd feeling he'd had. "Hell, yeah," he said. "Move it."

Nate and Sophie and Hardison were waiting for them when they walked back into the office. Well, Parker kind of skipped, and Eliot stomped. So sue him.

"So?" Sophie started before Parker interrupted.

"I'm hungry," Parker declared, tossing her helmet in the direction of the couch and perhaps not-so-accidentally catching Hardison in the gut.

"Hey!" he protested as she made a beeline for the kitchen.

Eliot followed her in, a little more morosely. He dropped down in a chair, setting his own helmet on the floor next to him. "So?" Sophie repeated again, directing her attention his way. Nate was eyeing him too.

He shrugged and grunted. "Yeah, she can drive."

"I beat you!" drifted from the kitchen.

He scowled. "Okay, she can drive really well," he grumbled. No man liked getting beat. Especially by a woman half his size. And he'd given it a couple of damn good tries.

"So she's really good?" Hardison asked, still apparently surprised.

"Well, if you think about it, I suppose it makes sense," Nate said, dropping down to the couch to sit. "After all, driving is about control, both mental and physical. Understanding your tools and making minute adjustments on the fly."

Sophie smiled, looking over her shoulder. "That sounds a great deal like breaking into a high-security vault."

Eliot nodded, somewhat absently, his own eyes drifting back to the kitchen. There were sounds of rummaging. That always made him edgy. Who'd have guessed that crazy little Parker had that kind of control? Yeah, ok, Nate was right, she had it for the job, but… it was kind of hot.

Eliot pulled himself to a mental stop. Jesus, what was it with him today? Woman gets behind the wheel, hands him his ass on four tires, and all of a sudden he's thinking bad thoughts?

He scowled and shoved himself out of his chair. "Parker, you better not have gotten into the cheese," he growled, stomping toward the kitchen. "That's for dinner tonight." Food, that would get his brain back where it needed to be, and off of this new side of his teammate.

Eliot lay in bed that night and studied the ceiling. The beams were dark and shadowed, and his body was loose and relaxed. He'd worked the heavy bag that evening, beating out a staccato rhythm that had him baffled in its urges. What was with him today?

Parker, he thought, and scowled again in the dark. Dammit. It came back to Parker. She'd gotten under his skin today, and not in the usual driving-me-not-so-slowly-to-do-physical-damage-to-someone-or-something way that she usually did. No, today it had been more of a sidle-under-his-radar sort of thing. Something about her exquisite control on the course today, her absolute focus and…

He huffed a breath, and turned on his side, punching his pillow into shape. Yeah. It was that narrowed look from the car, those blue eyes laser-like and so damn hot. An image of her stroking the stick shift slipped in again, and he muttered under his breath. Dammit. Parker was hot. His brain knew that, had always known that, but she'd always been off-limits. First, she was crazy. Eliot's life was crazy enough. He didn't do crazy in his women. Second, she was a teammate. You didn't piss where you drank. All kinds of horrible could happen there. Third, there was Hardison. The man had a crush on Parker that was bordering on pathetic. What kind of a friend would Eliot be if he got in the middle of that? Never mind that Parker still hadn't taken any kind of steps with Hardison… Eliot had been of the opinion for a while that Parker just didn't feel that way. Sure, she was clueless in a lot of ways about people, but Parker was also pretty damn smart in others. And she wasn't some inexperienced twit who couldn't recognize the signs staring her in the face.

No, he was pretty sure that if Parker and Hardison were going to happen, they'd have happened already. They were just too different, too far apart in experiences and understandings. The ice cave floated back into his mind, Parker's frustrated face wanting to take the body back down the mountain… he'd told her that they were alike, different from the others.

Eliot shifted again. This was crazy. It was time to put it out of his mind. Tomorrow they were leaving for Pennsylvania. There was a race happening next week, and they were going to get the con started. He needed to keep his head straight if he was going to have Parker's back on this one. He breathed deep and closed his eyes. Yeah. Right.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Eliot resisted the urge to beat his head against the top of the car and instead glared at Nate. "You really thought this was a good idea?" he growled. "Really?"

Nate brushed at the lapels of his jacket. "Parker'll be fine," he said. "Sophie's with her."

And that right there was what was worrying Eliot. Send Parker into a dive bar full of drivers and hicks with Sophie as backup. Yeah. Great idea, Nate.

"Sophie," Nate said, "How's it going in there?"

"Not now," Sophie's voice in their ear said. "Parker seems to have challenged one of the other racers to a…"

And that was enough for Eliot. "That's it, I'm going in," he announced, and opened the door of the van.

"Wait, Eliot," Nate started, but Eliot was through listening. This wasn't a nice looking place. It was a rough and tough country dive, full of pickup truck driving locals and some of the other drivers who were in town for the race in two days. And Parker was apparently getting her competitive edge on? Eliot pushed the door open, resisting the urge to slam it and make a scene. He just didn't see this going well.

He scanned the dim room, and found her blonde head over by the bar. Sophie was hanging over her shoulder, looking like she was biting her tongue. Parker was arguing with a guy who had a good foot and a half of height and a hundred and fifty pounds on her. He was glaring, arms folded, crowding her space. Eliot wanted to groan as Parker drilled a finger into the guy's chest.

"I can drive, I can out drive you," he heard her hissing, sounding royally pissed off. "Just because you've got a dick, doesn't mean you've got a brain…"

Aaaand that would be his cue. "Hey, Parker, what's the holdup?" Eliot interrupted, sliding in behind her, cutting Sophie off. That would be the other woman's cue to get out of the way. "You said dinner in a half-hour and it's," he made a show of looking at his watch, "a good hour later." He could feel the tension in her nearly vibrating back against him. Cautiously, so as not to spook her into swinging at him in reflex, he laid a hand on her shoulder.

Interestingly, rather than getting a jumpy thief's fist in his face, he felt her body relax. "Eliot," she growled, sounding like a deceptively harmless kitten with its fur all ruffled, "tell Dumbass here that I'm going to kick his butt all over the course."

Eliot measured the guy with his eyes. Big, built, but clearly not used to using it right. Little bit of a paunch. A guy who was used to looming and intimidating and not really a threat to Eliot. Hell, maybe he should stand back and let Parker take the guy. "Nah," he said. "You'll just show him on Thursday." He patted her shoulder, gently guiding her out of his way and towards the door. "Now, food? Please? Man's gotta eat, darlin'," he said. She was mad, he didn't blame her. But there was a look in her eye that had him a little worried, something that he didn't see that often with her. She was… hurt?

Big Dumbass still had his arms crossed, and now smirked at Parker, leaning back against the bar. "Women don't belong behind the wheel," he said in a low baritone, full of innuendo. "Only one kinda stick you should be handling, blondie, and I can get you a little better acquainted with it."

Eliot gritted his teeth. Oh, hell, no. "Don't start a fight, Eliot," Nate's voice said. "Just get Parker out. Sophie's already in the van."

Of course, Parker wasn't having it. She whipped around and sneered at the guy, any glimpse of hurt buried under fire-breathing pissed. "Your car probably has more stick than you, Dumbass," she said, voice rising and face just mad. "And frankly, I wouldn't want to touch either." Somebody on the other side of the guy snorted a laugh and Eliot resigned himself to the fact that this was probably going to get ugly.

"Parker, out," he hissed, pushing her back away from the guy and toward the door.

"You want to say that again, blondie," the guy growled, stepping away from the bar and moving toward them. "Cause I've got a whole lot that I could school you in, in or out of the car…"

"Look, buddy," Eliot stepped forward. "Back off. We're leaving, you have a nice night now." How come HE had to be the voice of reason? He was supposed to get to bust heads. Dammit.

"You back off, pretty boy, this is between me and your little blonde bitch of a friend there," the guy snarled, apparently more worked up than he'd realized. And then he shoved Eliot, making him fall back a step. "Out of my way."

"Uh-oh," Parker said behind him.

"Uh-oh? No, no, no, no 'uh-oh', not now, come on guys…" Eliot heard Nate in his ear. Eliot's eyes narrowed. He smiled.

"Pretty boy?" he said. "Well, now, thanks for the compliment." And with that he gave him a nice uppercut to the jaw and sent the dude stumbling backward. "How about YOU back off, Dumbass?" He heard rather than saw chairs being moved, people getting out of the way. He sensed a couple of guys moving in on his right. "Parker?" he said quietly.

"Oh, come on, let me hit at least one of them," she said, sounding pissed still.

"Parker," he said again, watching Dumbass get himself together, fists clenching and mad on his face.

She huffed a breath. "Fine. But make it quick. You're right, I'm hungry."

* * *

Eliot was still nursing a good bit of mad later that night as he sat alone in the hotel bar. Yeah, sure, he'd gotten to break some heads, and didn't THAT always make him feel just a bit better, but still… He flexed his hand with a glare. Parker shouldn't have been in that bar without him. He was her backup, not Sophie. And Nate was just plain nuts if he'd thought otherwise.

He scowled at his beer and ignored at the tv over the hotel bar. Sure, ESPN was running the current baseball stats, but he wasn't terribly interested at the moment. He swallowed another mouthful of brew. Nope. He kind of wanted to to go back and beat Dumbass all over again. Sure, he'd ragged on Parker plenty of times, but not for being a chick. When he'd questioned her driving skills, her gender had never crossed his mind. He'd been more worried about all the crazy she carried around. Parker had been well and truly pissed, and if he wasn't mistaken, more than a little upset at being written off for being a girl.

Eliot lifted the bottle again and drank. So maybe he'd put a few extra hits on the guy, just for that. Nothing wrong with sending the right message, right? He was just backing up his partner, being a good friend.

For some reason, what was running in a loop through his brain was how Parker had relaxed when he'd put his hand on her shoulder. He started peeling the label from the beer bottle. They all knew how jumpy the little blonde thief was, they knew not to invade her personal space. Parker wasn't touchy-feely, hell, neither was he. Both Eliot and Parker had issues with people touching them, and he'd contemplated the problem before. Hell, that had been half the reason he'd agreed to train Parker. He'd figured fighting, she'd have to get used to him in her space, up against her in a fight. Less chance of her going off her rocker in a real fight because he needed to put a hand on her.

It apparently had worked, since she felt… safe? he guessed, when he'd shown up. He shook his head. Jesus, when did he start going all girly and thinking about Parker so much? Oh, right, when he saw her drive. Dammit. He sighed and pushed the empty bottle away from him, label in one smooth piece on the bar in front of him.

Something had changed in how he viewed Parker, and he wasn't real comfortable with that. She was his partner. His teammate. And… she was hot. Crap. He was attracted to Parker. This wasn't going to go well, he just knew it.

He registered Sophie sliding onto the stool next to him, and gave a mental groan. Great, just great. Here's something else that's not going to go well, he thought glumly.

"Well, I think I've got Parker convinced that the best revenge will be to kick Darrien's butt in the race," Sophie said with a sigh. She shook her dark head. "What she really wanted to do was break into his hotel room tonight and cut off some of his body parts."

Eliot grunted. "I can guess which ones," he said, signaling the bartender for another beer. Wasn't altogether a bad idea, he mused while he waited for his drink. Sophie was silent until the bottle arrived, cold and clean and crisp.

"Eliot, why are you so protective of Parker?" Sophie asked, just as he'd taken a good mouthful of brew. Eliot swallowed harder than he'd expected and sputtered a little.

"What?" he said, not looking at her. That would give anything and everything away. Not that there was anything to give away. Excepting maybe his little moment of revelation a few minutes ago, but that wasn't something he was about to share with Miss Nosey-Pants next to him. "It's my job, I protect the team. Of course I'm protective."

Sophie was studying him with those eagle eyes, dammit, she always seemed to see things that weren't supposed to be seen. "You've always paid more attention to Parker," she said. "Usually because of the con. But…" she paused and cocked her head, "I've gotten the feeling before that while you'd stand up and put yourself in front of the rest of us, it's something a little more with Parker."

"You're crazy," Eliot muttered, taking another drink.

"Am I?" Sophie said, and he could just hear the smile in her voice. "Seems to me you could have just carried Parker out of there today. Instead, you beat up the guy that hurt her feelings."

"I felt like a fight," he said flatly. "Besides, you don't talk to a woman that way."

"Hmmm…." Sophie said, and he didn't have to look to see the wheels turning. "That might be one of the first times you've talked about Parker as a woman. Not a thief, not a teammate, but a woman." Well, crap. This is what he'd just known was going to happen, Sophie on a little digging mission, coming up with all kinds of crazy theories and stories and messing with his mind. "It seems to me that maybe something's finally changed with you and Parker, that you're finally seeing her as someone attractive, desirable…"

"Whoa, just stop right there," Eliot interrupted her, getting a nice little panicky ball lodged in his stomach. This was getting way out of hand. He looked over at Sophie, who was leaning her hand against her cheek and watching him with smiling eyes. "Just back up a little, woman, and step off. Parker's my partner, ok? She just _happens_ to be a woman. And a thief," he added hastily. After all, that was the point, right? "So I take a little extra time with her, it's 'cause of the job. Girl needs to have my back, needs to know how to stay outta trouble and when to jump in and lend a taser. Needs not to be jumpy with me, or the wrong people start getting hurt."

"Oh, absolutely," Sophie said promptly. Her eyes were sparkling suspiciously bright. Was she laughing at him? Eliot scowled. He didn't trust her agreement. "The fact that she's a sexy little blonde who's more flexible than a pipe cleaner never crossed your mind."

Well, crap, now it had.

Eliot just glared. "I'm going to bed," he told Sophie. "You're full of shit tonight, and I'm not listening to it." He tossed down a couple of bills and pushed away from the bar.

"Eliot," Sophie called after him. "If it helps, she certainly takes extra time with you, too."

Nope. Didn't help, not at all.

* * *

Thanks for the reviews! Yes, there will be some smut later on in the story… we're just not there yet. I like a little danger with my romance. Hence my fixation on Eliot and Parker.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

It was 3 am, and Eliot wasn't asleep. Ok, so he didn't sleep much at night anyway, too many bad memories that crowded into his head when he tried to close his eyes… But this time it wasn't just him not being able to turn his brain off. Every time he closed his eyes, there was Parker scooting through his dreams. Lithe limbs, hair glowing golden, skin like silk… he would wake up with a raging hard-on and then try to get himself under control before attempting to sleep again. He was about to give up on sleep and just go find the hotel gym.

Then he heard the snick of his door being opened and a brief flash of light spilling in from the hallway. Eliot held still, keeping his breathing even, not giving a sign that he was awake. Whoever it was really was making a mistake, trying to take him out while in bed. Eliot didn't go to bed unaware.

"Eliot," Parker's voice sang out softly. Aw, well, crap. "E-liot…"

"What, Parker?" he growled, not bothering to raise his head and look at her. "It's 3 in the morning, dammit, go back to bed."

"You're not asleep, how come I should be?" she pointed out, wandering closer to his bed and then perching in the window. How the hell did she balance on that little bitty ledge, he wondered, it had to be all of like three inches wide.

"Not the point," he grumbled. "What do you want, Parker?" Go away, he thought, so I can go find the gym and beat myself into oblivion.

"Nate wants me to plant some cameras in that bar," she said cheerfully. "I figured you'd want to come with me."

Whoa, whoa, Nate was going to send her alone? "Nate was going to send you by yourself?" Eliot demanded, giving up on any pretense of staying cool. "What the hell, Parker! Damn straight I'm going with you." He sat up and swung himself out of bed, reaching for his jeans and coming up hard against Parker, instead.

Apparently Parker wasn't on the windowsill anymore. Nope. She'd moved in that sneaky, silent way she had, and had apparently stood up next to the bed. Eliot nearly crashed into her, jeans in hand. Her hand shot out to catch his momentum and hit palm first in the center of his bare chest. Eliot was prepared to swear that his heart stopped beating for a moment there.

For a second, they just stood there. Parker's pale hand in the center of his chest, light against his darker tan. Eliot stared down at her hand and just breathed. Parker was still, very, very still, staring at her hand as well. He could smell the clean scent of her, the scent of just Parker. The little bit of light from the hotel window glittered on her blonde hair, her face bathed in shadows…

Very, very slowly, Parker pulled her hand back, her fingers trailing lightly against his skin and leaving hot paths in their wake. Eliot stood stock-still, literally unable to move. He just watched her, blonde head bent, eyes on her own hand, slim body still and silent in front of him…

Then Parker breathed in, a big breath that made her breasts lift beneath that tight black shirt she wore, and she flitted away. "I'll meet you in the car," she floated back over her shoulder, and then she was gone, out the door.

Eliot stood, gripping his jeans and just stared after her. Absently, he rubbed his bare chest with his free hand, feeling again her smooth fingers hot against his skin…

He dropped his hand and growled at himself. Dammit. He was so fucked, so very very fucked, he thought furiously as he yanked on his jeans and reached for a shirt. Fucking Parker and fucking Nate and fucking con. How the hell was he supposed to do this without screwing _something_ up?

He threw on his shoes, grabbed a couple of tools and tossed on a dark, long-sleeve button-up shirt. Parker was waiting in the car. Who the hell knew what kind of crazy shit she'd be getting up to?

He almost left his room key, and detoured back to grab it. No way was he going to have Parker break him back into his own room.

One thing was for certain, Eliot thought grimly as he went out the door. HE was going to drive tonight.

* * *

Eliot couldn't believe they were already back at the same damn dive. Ok, so it might be one of the few places in town to get a beer, but still. It was a dive. NOT someplace he'd take a woman to, even a woman like Parker who could handle herself.

"Hurry up," he muttered at Parker, as she picked the back lock.

"Pathetic," he heard her mumble. "I've seen better security on Nate's refrigerator," and the door swung open.

"That's because I don't want you eating my dinner ingredients," Eliot muttered as she straightened back up. He was rewarded for his snide comment with a brilliant flash of white teeth before Parker disappeared into the dark bar. Eliot heaved a sigh and went in after her. After all, there might some passed out idiot lying on the floor. You never knew.

Parker was flitting about the main room like a dark little ghost while Eliot scanned the premises. It was quiet. No one here. No security feed, nothing in the least high-tech. As long as Hardison's little cameras weren't spotted, no one would ever know they'd been inside tonight.

"Let's get a move on, Parker," he said gruffly and softly. "How many we got?"

"Five," Parker said, suddenly appearing at his elbow. Another man might have jumped in surprise, but not Eliot. Nope.

"Gimme a couple, and let's get this done," he said, a little roughly, and held out his hand. Parker dropped two of the mini cams into it, her fingers brushing lightly against his and he had to hold back a shiver. Crap. "You do high," he said, turning away abruptly. "I'm gonna place these two in back rooms."

Parker didn't answer, but was already on the bar, stretching for the ceiling. Eliot went past her to the back office, trying to ignore the white strip of skin gleaming as her shirt rode up from her pants. Not looking, not looking, he thought determinedly. He WAS going to get over this.

Eliot placed one camera with a good view of the desk, and then slipped into the supply room to locate the other, before re-entering the dark main room. His eyes searched the gloom automatically for Parker, and found her near the front window. Dim and grimy as it was, moonlight still streamed through the panes in enough quantities to gild her slim form, silvering her hair and haloing her body in a nimbus of pale light.

Eliot just stood a second, silent and dark in the doorway, and looked. This was how he thought of Parker, he realized quietly, as something dark and ethereal and strong, yet so fragile and pure. His eyes trace the dimly lit curve of her cheek, the swell of her breast and long line of her legs before he forced himself back.

"Done?" he said gruffly, stepping fully into the room. Parker turned her head and he could again see the gleam of white teeth in the dark.

"Of course," she said. She beckoned to him. "Look, Eliot, I didn't realize how many stars were out here," she said, pointing up through the dirty window. "We don't get that many in the city."

Eliot stepped up next to her, he couldn't help it. He peered through the grimy glass. "Light pollution in the city," he said absently. "Blocks a lot of the stars." He shot a glance down at her face, rapt and starry eyed on the night sky. "Come on," he said abruptly. "We can see better outside."

"Job's done, anyway," Parker said, and sighed. Eliot got the feeling that she didn't think he was actually looking at the stars.

In that moment, he made an impulsive decision. Not something he did often, and not something he did without the proper background knowledge, but still. He could do spontaneous sometimes. And Parker had looked at those stars with such… pure enjoyment. He wanted to keep that look on her face.

Once in the car, he pulled out onto the road and headed away from town, away from the hotel.

"Eliot," Parker started in a puzzled tone, twisting in her seat to look over her shoulder.

"Shut up, Parker," he said gruffly. "Just wait." He felt more than saw her puzzled look, but amazingly she kept quiet, settling down into the passenger seat and slipping into the dark silence like she was part of it.

Eliot drove, dark, twisting, winding roads that wound around and slowly up the hills that surrounded them. The trees were black and shadowed in the moonlight, the headlights too bright in front of them as the bends and curves of the road slid by. They were silent, not talking, and somehow not needing to. Eliot had felt like this with Parker before, had felt this silent understanding. Parker, for all her crazy, could sometimes just _get_ him. Those moments when stillness and silence weren't necessary, but wanted… she seemed to get them.

He finally found what he was looking for, the scenic overlook that he'd seen on the map he'd glanced through in one of the gas station stops on the way to Pennsylvania. He pulled into the gravel lot, and killed the engine and the headlights. The dark, shadowed valley stretched out before them, black hills rising in the background. Tiny pin-pricks of light showed the town spread across the scene, and above… Eliot opened his door and stepped out, raising his eyes, and feeling the content sigh leave his body silently. Above, the sky glittered with stars, so many he knew he'd never be able to count. More beautiful than one of Parker's diamond necklaces, they winked and sparkled and shone in patterns tossed across the black bowl of the sky.

Drawing in a breath, Eliot suddenly realized that Parker was still in the car. A little puzzled, he stepped around to the passenger side and opened the door. "Parker?" he said, leaning down a little and looking at her. "You gonna come out?"

She was staring out the windshield fiercely. Then her head came around to look at him, and he almost would have sworn that her eyes glittered in the dark, glittered with… tears? "You brought me to see the stars?" she said, and her voice was soft, wondering.

He couldn't resist it. He reached down for her hand. "Come on, darlin'," he said quietly. He pulled just a little and she came, following him obediently out of the car. They really needed a bigger car for this, he thought, as he pulled her next to him, up onto the hood. The plain and practical Camry should be his pickup, and they could be lying in the bed, staring up. But it would do.

They laid back and just stared up at the sky. The hood was still warm beneath Eliot's back, and Parker was warm by his side, her arm barely brushing his as they laid and gazed up. He felt more than heard her contented sigh, and then felt her fingers sliding over his. They wound between his own larger, rougher fingers, slipping in and curling her palm against his. His own fingers tightened in response.

"Thanks, Eliot," she said softly.

He couldn't resist rubbing his thumb lightly against her fingers wrapped in his. "You're welcome," he said just as softly.

* * *

Yumm… Eliot in the dark…

Thanks for the reviews! They are all read and appreciated, even if I don't respond individually. Like every other writer out there, they spur me to write more. *wink, wink*


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The sky had just started to lighten when they'd left the overlook. Eliot had looked sideways at Parker as he'd started down the hill road, and asked if she didn't want to stay and see the sunrise. Parker had shrugged and said that she liked the night best. Eliot hadn't said anything, but he'd silently agreed. He liked the darkness better, too.

When they'd gotten back to the hotel, Parker had disappeared and Eliot had headed for the gym after a quick change of clothes. On the one hand, he was relaxed and calm after stargazing with Parker. On the other hand, he was wound as tight as a spring. His mind and body couldn't seem to make up their mind and he knew the only thing that would center him and get him through the upcoming day was the burn of muscles and the drip of sweat.

It was going on 7am by the time he stepped back into his hotel room, and as he headed for the shower his cell rang.

Eliot picked it up and saw Nate's name.

"Eliot," Nate's voice said. "You and Parker got the cameras placed?"

"Yeah," Eliot said, voice dropping as his earlier irritation came back to him. "What the hell, Nate? You were going to send Parker out alone?"

"I knew she'd go get you," the older man said calmly. "Listen, breakfast meeting in fifteen minutes, in Sophie's suite. I'll order you a steak."

Eliot didn't bother to answer, after all, Nate had already hung up. He headed for the shower. Fifteen minutes, he'd get a quick shower and shave before breakfast. And if Parker's blonde head popped into his mind while he was soaping off, well, it was work related. Purely work related.

* * *

Eliot slipped his mirrored shades on before he stepped out of the car after Parker. Today, they were qualifying for the race, and hoping to draw the attention of their mechanical saboteur. Both he and Parker had driving suits, matching blue and white with Sophie's fake tech business printed on the chest. He scanned the scene. Lots of cars, lots of people milling around.

Sure, it was amateurs, but these weren't demolition derby drivers. The guys driving in these races usually had to pay their own way, support their own cars. They took their stuff pretty seriously, and only some of them had sponsors. No one did it for the money. They did it for the sheer thrill of driving.

There were a number of cars, all looking ready to go. Eliot eyed a particularly nice looking Audi Quattro as he and Parker strolled by, and wondered what kind of a turbo they'd fitted it with.

Parker growled softly next to him, and Eliot looked at her with surprise. "Did you just _growl_?" he asked, eyebrow lifting.

"Big dumbass," she muttered, and although she had her own shades on, he could tell she was glaring by the way those pretty blonde eyebrows were scrunched together.

"Dumbass, huh," he said softly, looking in the direction of her gaze. Sure enough, there was Dumbass, otherwise known as Gage Darrien. Six foot three, two hundred fifty pounds, real estate mogul from Fresno, California. Married with two children, all of whom stayed at home while he took time to go on the road and race. Darrien usually hit about ten races in a year, a good amount for an amateur. He usually finished in the top segment, too. Not very well liked by his peers, he had a reputation for not-quite-clean moves off the track.

Eliot's own eyes narrowed behind his shades as he realized Darrien was gazing back at them, a smirk on his face and then said something to the guy next to him. Must be his co-driver. The two men laughed and looked again at Parker and Eliot.

"Did YOU just growl?" Parker asked.

"… Maybe," Eliot said.

"Come on," Parker said, her voice suddenly happy and bubbling again, although he had no idea why. It was Parker. How on earth was he supposed to keep up with her moods? "Let's get registered and crap and go kick some Dumbass ass." She grabbed his hand in hers and started pulling him along with her towards the registration booth.

"Hey, let go," Eliot protested, wiggling his fingers in hers, "Lotta macho guys here, Parker, drivers don't hold hands!"

Parker blew a raspberry at him and kept towing him along with her, quick little strides eating up the ground. Eliot couldn't find it in him to pull away when she was holding on, even though he just knew someone was going to make a comment.

"Does Eliot need help, Parker?" Sophie's amused voice in his ear said. See? Dammit.

"Did you just growl again, Eliot?" Parker asked.

* * *

They were headed back to the car to get into starting position when Dumbass decided to make his move.

"Well, if it isn't the little blondie and her bitch," he drawled, stepping in front of their path and blocking their way. Darrien folded his arms and stared down at the two of them. "Thought you'd have wised up by now, chickie. This is a man's sport." He pulled his shades off and trailed his eyes slowly down Parker's body.

Eliot tensed up. He really didn't want to have to beat the crap out of this guy again. But if Darrien didn't quit eyeing Parker like she was some kinda two-bit hooker, he was going to. "Eliot, relax…" Nate's voice in his ear warned.

To his surprise, Parker didn't get mad. Nope. Parker laughed.

"Hey, Dumbass," she said, giggling. "Good to see you, too. I'm sooo flattered that you're that scared of my time."

Darrien glared. "Please, women can't drive. And you," he said toward Eliot. "You a nancy-boy or something, letting yourself get driven around by a chick?" At that, Parker laughed out loud, a good full belly-laugh.

Somewhat to his surprise, Eliot found himself curving his own lips in an amused smirk. "Whatever makes it easier for you to eat our dust, Darrien," he said casually. "I got fifty bucks that says Parker smokes your time today." He felt the sudden stillness coming from the woman next to him, and wondered at it just for a moment.

Darrien brayed a laugh. "Happy to take your money," he said, arrogance practically dripping off him. "See you after, blondie."

Eliot kept his eyes on the big man while he walked away, pretty sure that Darrien posed no real threat to them on the track, but still a little uneasy. Seemed like the guy was a little too fixated on Parker for his taste.

"Eliot," Parker said next to him.

"Hmm? What?" he asked, looking down at her. He still couldn't see her eyes, but her face was pretty blank.

"Why'd you bet on me?" Parker asked.

Eliot blinked behind his own glasses. "Because you're gonna win, darlin', that's why. Never bad to bet on a sure thing." He grinned at her, trying to be reassuring. She seemed like she needed it for some reason.

Parker was looking at him, studying him. "But…" she paused. "You bet _money_." Eliot felt his brows draw together in puzzlement. He wasn't sure what the issue was. Parker turned abruptly. "Come on," she said, "Let's go." Eliot was left to follow in her wake as she plunged ahead through the crowd, toward their car.

"What…" Eliot shook his head. "Something wrong with that girl," he muttered as he followed.

* * *

When it was their turn at the start, Parker was still acting a little off. Eliot couldn't put his finger on it, but her head wasn't all there. He knew it wasn't.

"Hey," he said, as they were waiting to be told to pull onto the track. Parker looked over at him, face blank. He really didn't like that look, it just didn't sit right with him. Parker wasn't meant to be emotionless.

"You ok?" he asked, studying her.

Parker blinked and looked back forward through the windshield. "I'm fine," she said. Eliot resisted the urge to cringe. Now, he loved women. All sized and shapes and so on, but one thing he'd learned the hard way was that when a woman said she was 'fine', then she was lying through her teeth and he better be prompt about figuring out what the hell was goin' on.

"Parker," he said again. They were being waved forward, and he shifted the pacenotes in his lap impatiently.

"Not now, Eliot," she said coolly as she shifted gears and started pulling forward.

Eliot abruptly reached out and laid a hand over hers on the gearshift. "Parker," he said again, maybe more sternly than he should. She pulled to stop at the start line and started revving the engine. She turned her head and stared down at his hand while the engine growled, and then glanced quickly at him. He smiled at her, slow and steady and squeezed her hand.

"Let's go kick some ass," he said.

Parker stared at him, and then smiled back, a quicksilver flash that had her eyes sparkling. "Ok," she said. She dropped her foot and they were gone.

* * *

No smut yet! I promise, some is coming. I'm thinking the next chapter, but it all depends on how Eliot and Parker are feeling. They don't always cooperate, you know.


	6. Chapter 6 Smut!

Chapter 6

Eliot had a feeling the smirk on his face was pretty permanently etched at this point. Parker had driven like a bat outta hell, and laid down a time that had shot right to the top of the board. They'd stepped out of the car and been pretty quickly the center of attention. The other drivers were apparently watching, Eliot thought with a grin. Little blonde woman kicks their ass, they seem to notice.

Most of the drivers were pretty friendly, chatty, asking Parker about how she handled this corner or that stretch of gravel. Eliot had kept his eyes open and aware for Darrien. The big man had scowled in the background and muttered to his co-driver.

Of course, when it had been his turn to run, Darrien couldn't quite match Parker's time. He was right behind, but still. No one came close to Parker. Hence the permanent smirk on Eliot's face. He'd really enjoyed strolling up to Darrien and asking for his money. Best part was, the dumbass couldn't make a scene, given how many other drivers were milling around them.

Eliot patted his pocket. He was going to buy Parker a beer tonight, he thought. She'd earned it, giving him such a feeling of satisfaction.

"Eliot!" he heard a squeal behind him, and turned just in time to brace his legs and catch Parker as she leapt into his arms. She pressed full-body against him, legs wrapping around his hips, arms around his neck, cheek against his. His nose was in her hair, and the faintly sweet smell of her sweat and that elusive something that was just Parker filled his brain. His hands wrapped around her waist without thinking, keeping her in place, soft against hard.

"That was great!" Parker bubbled in his ear, before pulling back and planting a smacking kiss on his cheek. For a split second, the whole world narrowed to the feeling of her lips, soft, pliant, warm, pressed against his skin. His hands tightened on her waist and he went very still before she was sliding down and away.

"I _love_ to drive!" Parker exclaimed. Then she was practically dancing away. "Sophie, did you see me?" she was chattering to her earbud.

Eliot dropped his now empty hands rather uselessly to his sides, and watched her for a moment. His cheek still burned and his body was tight. He was screwed, he thought. Maybe it was time to just accept that fact.

* * *

Eliot was heading for the car, mind on Parker and how the hell he was going to handle this new revelation of sorts he'd had when Hardison piped up in his head.

"Eliot," the hacker said.

"Yeah," Eliot answered, a bit absently. So he was preoccupied. So sue him.

"Dude, we gotta talk," Hardison said. There was a note in his teammate's voice that got Eliot's attention. Shit.

"Yeah, ok," he said after a moment's pause. "Hotel room, once we're done here." There was quiet in his ear again. Eliot didn't think Hardison wanted to talk about the con. Nope. Pretty sure it was something else.

Eliot blew out a breath. Hell. He'd just known this was going to suck.

* * *

Parker was still talking animatedly to one of the other drivers, an older guy who was listening intently to her talk about how she powerslid around the fifth corner and it saved her about another second and a half…

Eliot leaned against the outside of the car and just waited for her. He scanned the crowd from behind his shades, unobtrusively trying to pick out faces that might cause them problems later. After all, they should have gotten the attention of their saboteur today. Over to one side of the clearing, he spotted a couple of men huddled together, and caught the sight of money changing hands.

"Nate," he said softly. "We got gambling in the southwest corner. Could be a motive?"

"Right," Nate's voice said. "Sophie, can you get us some faces with your cam?"

"On it," Sophie's voice replied. Eliot listened as Sophie flirted her way across the field, chatting with drivers, spectators and others. His eyes picked her out finally getting into cam range as the circle of men were breaking up. He studied faces carefully. After all, they might not get photos, you never knew with their cons.

Parker popped back up at his side. "Lotta people lost money on us today," she said cheerfully to Eliot. She leaned against the car next to him, her arm brushing barely against his. "Nobody wanted to bet on a woman winning."

Eliot glanced down at her, then back to the gamblers who were drifting away. "Their mistake, darlin'," he said. "I sure knew where to put my money."

He felt Parker's sigh. "You bet _money_," she said.

Eliot frowned a little. "Why's that surprising?" he asked. This really was confusing him. What else was he supposed to bet?

Parker was silent for a minute. Eliot's eyes followed one of the gamblers, a skinny man with a buzz cut and badly fitting western style shirt. He was talking intently to another man, and Eliot thought he saw money changing hands again.

"Nate, I think I've made the bookie," Eliot said. "Northwest corner, talking to a driver in red and yellow."

Parker shifted a little next to him. "I see him, too," she said. Then to Eliot, "Why do people bet money? I wouldn't bet money. I'd never bet money."

It was like a lightbulb in his head, Parker's reaction to his side bet with Darrien. He'd forgotten how important even a few bills were to the little blonde thief. She didn't spend her money from cons, she didn't carry cash around… it wasn't something she was willing to risk. And that meant a lot from someone who was willing to throw herself headfirst off tall buildings.

Eliot reached down and unobtrusively squeezed Parker's fingers. "I only bet on a sure thing," he drawled, eyes still on the bookie, and released her fingers. "Waste of money otherwise."

Parker was quiet, mulling, he thought. Good. Let her chew on what that meant for a little bit, and maybe she'd get a few knots tied up in her like he had.

* * *

By the time Eliot made it back to his hotel room, he was about ready to bust a head or two. It took for freakin' ever to get away from the drivers. All he wanted now was a cold brew, maybe a nice meal…

He opened his door and saw Hardison, sitting on the bed, waiting. "Well, crap," Eliot muttered. He'd forgotten. Sort of. More like pushed his little talk with Hardison aside so that he didn't have to think about it and pretend it wasn't going to happen.

"Hey, bro," Hardison said soberly as Eliot shut the door.

Eliot dropped down into the chair next to the bed and leaned his head back. "All right, Hardison," he said wearily. "What's on your mind?" He had a pretty good idea.

Hardison fidgeted, fingers working against each other like he had an invisible keyboard in them. "Look, Eliot," he said awkwardly. He paused, and Eliot rolled his head to look at the hacker. "Umm, I mean, you been spending a lotta time with Parker."

Eliot grunted. "She's my partner." Damned if he was going to make this easy. He figured someone else should be suffering here besides him.

Hardison rubbed a hand over his head. "Yeah… Look, I got eyes, right? Ears?" Eliot narrowed his eyes at the other man. "I can see the writing on the way when it's shoved in my face. Parker, she don't feel for me that way."

Eliot opened his mouth and then closed it. Nope. He agreed. Parker didn't feel _that_ way about Hardison.

"But it sure seems like she's feeling something for you," Hardison said, dropping his hands to hang between his knees.

Eliot felt the sigh start way down in his gut and slide up and out in a long slow release of breath. If only he knew what that meant or even what that was.

"And being that I'm so damn smart, you know, genius here," Hardison went on, gesturing vaguely, "Ain't exactly hard to see that you got some kinda feeling for her." He turned his head and looked Eliot dead in the eye. "Right?"

Eliot felt his mouth twist and resisted the urge to look away. "I dunno what's going on, Hardison," he finally said. "But something's changed between Parker and I, and I haven't got a name for it."

Hardison nodded. "Yeah. I see that." He blew out a breath. "It's no secret I… think a lot of Parker," he said. "But in all this time, she hasn't paid as much of that kinda attention to me as she has to you in the last coupla days."

He shifted on the bed. "I guess I'm trying to say, I'm ok with this," Hardison muttered. Dropping his head and staring at his feet. "Well, maybe not ok-ok, but pretty much ok. Gonna be ok."

Eliot sat up and leaned forward to Hardison. "Hardison," he said and waited for the younger man to look up. Eliot met his eyes steadily. "I'd never fuck around with Parker, you know that, right?"

Hardison looked back at him. "Yeah, I do," he said. "You steady, bro. Solid as a rock when it comes to this team. You'd cut off a hand before you'd fuck around with Parker's feelings." He nodded a little. "I'm ok, bro. You ok, too."

* * *

By the time Eliot got rid of Hardison, all he wanted now was a long, hot shower. As soon as the door clicked shut behind his teammate, Eliot was stripping down and striding naked into the bathroom. He flipped on the hot water, as hot as he could stand, and stepped into the spray.

Dammit. How had his life gotten so complicated in the past few days? Last week, he was having a fine time, beating the crap out of people on cons, picking up chicks for one-night-stands, working with people he considered family… Now, he was having deep conversations with a guy he thought of as a brother, and was tied into knots over one puny little blonde.

Eliot blew out a breath and soaped up his hair. Dammit. Parker. He suddenly grinned. Shit, she'd been excited when Darrien hadn't managed to beat her. He pictured that gleaming grin that had lit up her whole face, and then ducked his own head under the spray, letting the shampoo rinse down his back. He slicked his hair back, and stepping out of the spray, reached for the soap.

As he lathered up his hands, Parker leaping into his arms and wrapping around him came front and center in his mind. Eliot bit back a groan as the memory of those lithe limbs wrapped around him hit. That position would have been something else, in a different setting. Eliot shifted in the water, feeling his body tightening and rising as Parker pressed against him consumed his mind. The feel of her lips against his cheek, the smell of her scent… he could have buried his face in her neck and tasted that little bit of sweat that had lingered at the junction of her neck and shoulder. He stroked his hands down, spreading soap over his abdomen before hesitating.

Shit, why not. Sometimes a man just had to take the situation in hand, so to speak, to deal with it. Eliot reached down and stroked his erection, leaning his other arm against the wall of the shower. Damn, Parker just got him fired up. That silky skin, those slim, taut muscles… he pictured again those firm legs wrapping around his waist, this time in a little more privacy and this time wearing a lot less clothing. Long, smooth, pale skin… he pumped his hand a little harder and felt the coil in his gut. That pretty head tipping backwards, baring the slender neck for his lips… those sweet breasts bare and pressed against his own chest, waiting to be stroked and tasted…

Eliot groaned aloud and shuddered as the images got to be too much, and he came in a rush. His breath was racing, and heart beating fast as he finally leaned back and tipped his face under the hot water. Crap. He should feel bad about what he'd just done but… Hardison had pretty much just given him the go-ahead. Never mind he didn't know what he was going into, but it didn't feel wrong to think about Parker that way. Eliot glanced down ruefully as he shut off the water and reached for a towel. Hell. It had felt damned good.

Eliot rubbed the towel over his torso, briefly dried his hair, and then wrapped it around his waist before striding out into the bedroom. He came to an abrupt stop. He stared.

"Parker," he croaked, before clearing his throat. "What are you doing here?"

Parker was sitting balanced in the windowsill, her slim shape silhouetted against the setting sun outside. Her hair was gilded by the red-gold of the dipping sun, and dammit, Eliot felt the desire start all over again.

She looked at him, and Eliot stood still. He wasn't sure what she wanted, what she needed, but he was standing pretty much naked in front of her. To his mind, that made the next move up to her.

Parker slowly slipped out of the widow. "You're not wearing any clothes," she said, voice soft like she was trying not to be heard.

Eliot swallowed. "Usually don't in the shower," he said, a little roughly.

Parker took two steps toward him. "I kissed your cheek today," she said. She paused and waited.

Eliot made sure he kept breathing. "Yeah," he said quietly.

She took two more steps toward him. It wasn't a big room. She was maybe two more steps from being right up against him. "That wasn't how I wanted to kiss you," she said, even softer.

Eliot was pretty sure his heart was going to thunder right out of his chest. How could she not hear it? Also, he was pretty sure Parker had noticed his towel tenting in the front. Kidna hard to miss.

"How…" he started before breathing in. He tried again. "How did you want to kiss me?"

Parker took another step toward him. Then one more, very slowly. Eliot could feel the heat radiating from her body, smell the sweet scent of her skin, she was that close. She kept her eyes on his the whole time. Slowly, very slowly, she lifted one hand and laid it in the center of his chest. Just like when she'd woken him last night.

"Like this," she barely breathed and stretched up to meet him.

Soft, soft warm lips met his and Eliot clenched his fist to keep from grabbing and taking. Instead he summoned all the control he had and concentrated on the kiss. Her taste, and feel… the way her mouth moved with his, her tongue dipped briefly out to tease his. Eliot was holding back, holding back a raging inferno of lust and desire, behind that kiss.

When Parker eased back, her lips were wet and plump and she licked them absently. Eliot swallowed, watching that pink tongue dart out and in.

"That was better," she whispered. Then she suddenly smiled, and there was that quicksilver gleam of eyes and teeth that was starting to make Eliot nuts in the best kind of way. "How did_ you_ want to kiss me?" she asked. Damn the woman, she was teasing him, he thought.

Oh, to hell with it. Eliot lifted one hand and laid it over Parker's on his chest, and slid the other at the nape of her neck. "Like this," he growled, and dove in. This was no soft, gentle kiss, this was a hungry claiming. He pulled her close, tight against his body, fitting soft curves against him, arms closing tight and hard about her. His mouth slanted, tasted, destroyed. Hers was just as quick and hungry and with an edge of desperation. Her free hand slid around his back, hot little fingers dancing over his bare spine. He released her trapped hand to slide his own around her back, under her shirt and against the tender skin at the small of her back, hauling her even closer. Her hand slipped up into his damp hair, twisting and tangling while they tried to devour the other person.

Eliot finally tore his mouth away, breathing heavy. Parker was panting, slim limbs tensed and trembling in his arms.

"Stay or go," Parker," he said, voice rough and dark and so damn hot that he almost didn't recognize himself. "Stay or go, because I'm about to make that decision for you."

She was tight and still in his arms, pressed body to body and eyes locked on his. Her pupils were huge and dilated, her breath rushed and heavy. Eliot stared down into those eyes, feeling about as tightly wound as he ever had before. If she left, he just might have to try her trick of throwing himself out the window.

Then Parker pushed back and stepped a step away from him. Eliot's heart dropped, splattering on the ground. Right up until Parker reached down and grasped the hem of her black shirt and in one smooth motion pulled it over her head. His heart stopped dead, and then resumed at a pace previously unknown to mankind.

"Jesus," he muttered, not even hearing himself as he reached for that lovely smooth pale body and hauled it back against his own. Their mouths crashed together and they were stumbling backward toward the bed. Eliot's towel fell to the floor and somehow agile, tricky Parker managed to skim out of her pants and shoes without separating from him. Then they were rolling across the bed, skin to skin, only her thin panties still between them, and then they too were gone.

His hands were sliding down her sides as they came to rest in one place, her body partially trapped under his hard one. His mouth pulled away from hers and she gave a little moan of displeasure that changed to a sigh as he tasted her neck and that spot he'd fantasized about earlier. That breathy sigh made Eliot burn even more and his hands slid back up her sides and around to cup those pretty breasts. Soft, sweet, nipples hard and hungry… he lifted his head to look and watched his big rough darker hands on her pale curves, stroking, kneading… it wasn't enough, and he leaned down to taste.

Parker moaned against, her hands in his hair, arching against him, pressing her flesh against his greedy mouth. "Eliot," she sighed, and it was a warm whisper that wound around him and stroked his hunger as clearly as her hands could have.

He sampled first one breast, than the other sweet curve. His mouth danced between the mounds, and under to taste the faint sheen of sweat that gathered there. Her hands slipped down to grasp at his shoulders, and he moved lower, trailing his tongue down that flat, smooth belly and opening his mouth over her bellybutton.

"Eliot," she sighed again, and this time it was a needier sound than before. That little edge pleased him unreasonably, and he nipped at her skin. Then he moved lower, slipping his hands between her thighs and spreading them as he moved down the bed.

Eliot glanced up Parkers body, just for the sheer pleasure of seeing it arched and gleaming in the setting sunlight, blonde hair tousled and coming loose from her ponytail, hands clutching at the sheets besides her. He gave a dark, satisfied grin, and bent his head back down again, tasting her. Her juices filled his senses, her taste was heady and intoxicating and her body so responsive. She gasped and moaned as he teased with the tip of his tongue, darting about and over that sensitive spot. Her hips shifted in his hands restlessly and her hands twisted in the sheets.

"Eliot!" she moaned. He slid his hand farther up her thighs and eased one rough fingertip into her scalding warmth. She moaned and twisted again, and he stroked her with finger and tongue. God, she was hot. So beautiful and sexy and everything he'd dreamed she'd be. He slipped another finger to join the first, working and spreading and curving inside all the while he kept tasting and teasing outside. He could feel her tensing, drawing closer and closer and closer…

And then she came apart in his hands, little mewing cries escaping from the back of her throat as she was drawn tight as a bow. Her body went limp in his hands and she gasped, chest heaving. Eliot slid his wet fingers out and started to leisurely kiss his way back up her heaving body. God he felt good. Smug and powerful.

And then Parker took a deep breath, and all of a sudden they were rolling and Eliot found himself staring up into those pretty blue eyes with some small amount of surprise. He had time to register the smoldering passion that stared down at him before her mouth crashed down on his and they were off again. His hands reached up to haul her tight against him, her body pressed over his. His cock was aching by this time, so hard and tight, he though he might just loose it then.

But Parker wasn't done with him. She tore her mouth loose and started to follow the same path he had, down his neck and chest. It was Eliot's turn to groan. "God, Parker…" he ground out as that hot, wet mouth closed and tugged on one of his flat nipples. He couldn't resist jerking his hips against hers and she moaned against his chest. Her hands fluttered against his sides, and then were reaching down to caress his erection. At that point, Eliot was pretty sure his eyes crossed and his brain stopped working.

He'd had enough. Hauling her up, using his strength against her busy hands and mouth, Eliot rolled them once more. By the time they'd come to a stop, he was sliding home between her legs. Parker gave a gasp and he couldn't stop the groan.

For a second, they both held still. Eliot struggled to savor the feeling of her hot, tight warmth closed tight around him, her arms and legs wrapped around his own. And then Parker shifted and that was that. His body took over, plunging, diving, advancing and retreating.

Her mouth was wild on his, her hands everywhere. The world narrowed to just her skin, her eyes, her taste, her feel, and then his world exploded and he was gone.

* * *

Whew! I did promise smut, right? This'll have to get you through the weekend, I think I'm worn out!


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Eliot's mind slowly came back to him. The first thing that registered was the soft, warm feel of Parker's skin as she lay pinned under his body. Next was the way their chests rose and fell rapidly, almost in tandem. Her fingers laid limply against his back, and his face was tucked into the curve of her neck.

A sigh, born of a contentment he wasn't sure he'd been aware of, slipped out of Eliot and he exhaled against the damp skin of Parker's neck. He felt the little shiver ripple through her, and smiling softly, turned his face and pressed his lips to that spot he liked so much, where her shoulder met her neck.

Then he forced himself to roll off her. After all, he outweighed her by a ton, he had to be crushing her. Never mine that he'd been about as comfortable as he'd ever been in bed. Parker laid still next to him, still breathing deep and quick, for a long moment. Then she shifted and made to roll out of the bed.

Eliot didn't think, just reacted. His hand shot out and caught hers. She paused, up on one elbow, one leg off the bed already and looked back over her shoulder at him.

"Stay," he said quietly. Parker's eyes were harder to read in the now dim light in the room, but he looked back up at her while she studied him.

Then she smiled, that wonderful quicksilver gleam of teeth and eyes in the dark. "I'm just going to go the bathroom," she said and squeezed his hand. "I'll be right back." Eliot didn't say anything, but squeezed back quickly before releasing her hand. He watched as she walked, naked, pale, gleaming, to the bathroom and disappeared inside.

When the door closed, Eliot blew out a breath. Well. He hadn't expected to spend his evening this way. Not that he was objecting, no sirree. Of course, now that he'd had Parker, that knotted up feeling inside of him was even worse. Now he wanted her _again_, and not just in his bed. Eliot rubbed his hands over his face and then dropped them to the bed. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat up and poked around his suitcase for a pair of shorts. He'd just pulled them on when the bathroom door opened and Parker slipped out. He felt the breath rush out of him just looking at her.

"You are so beautiful," slipped out of his mouth without thinking. Parker paused mid step and he could feel her eyes on him. Then there was that curve of lips again and she stepped closer to him.

"You are, too," she said quietly. Her fingers reached out and trailed lightly over the planes of his chest, dancing gently over the scars, tracing the ridges of muscle in his stomach. Eliot caught her hand and pulled her closer, up against him and into his arms. He sighed when her skin was pressed to his, and his hands slid to the small of her back.

"Stay," he said again.

Parker sighed as well, a warm little puff of air against his chest. "Ok," she said. "But I'm hungry. And I really wish we were home so you could make me grilled cheese."

Eliot smiled, tucking his chin into her hair. "There's always room service, darlin'," he said.

* * *

Of course, the world didn't stop turning just because Eliot wanted it to. While what he really wanted to do was stay cuddled down in the bed and make love to Parker again, slowly and thoroughly this time, they were on a con. And that meant the team came looking for them a few hours later.

Eliot's cell rang first, and he heaved a sigh before reaching for it. Parker was curled up against his chest, napping off two grilled cheese sandwiches and a glass of chocolate milk. She ate like an 11-year old, he thought again with a grin.

"Nate," he said in response to his glance at the number on the screen. "What?" Parker shifted silently awake, and he tightened his arm around her, keeping her pressed against his side.

"Eliot, Hardison's got some footage from the cameras you and Parker planted," Nate's voice said briskly. "He's cuing it up so we can run through it." There was a pause. "Sophie says she picked up Chinese food," he came back.

"Right," Eliot muttered. "Fine. Be there in a few."

"You haven't seen Parker, have you?" Nate's voice asked mildly. "She's not answering on the earbud and her cell's turned off.

Eliot glanced down at the blonde head currently tucked into his arm. "I'll find her," he said dryly. Parker was tracing patterns on his chest with one finger, and she glanced up at him. Those blue eyes were curious and she opened her mouth. Eliot shook his head at her quickly, and amazingly, she closed her mouth again. Huh. First time for everything, he thought. She was still watching him, though.

"Thirty minutes to food," Nate said, and then hung up.

Eliot closed his cell with a sigh and tossed it on the bedside table without looking.

"What did Nate want?" Parker asked.

"Meeting," Eliot said, shifting her in his arms. He pulled her flush on top of him, naked breasts pressing against him, her legs falling between his.

Parker wiggled, something that Eliot laid there and enjoyed, smirking a bit, and then she folded her arms beneath her chin. "Why didn't you want me to say anything?" she asked. There was no anger in her voice, no condemnation. Just simple curiosity. Eliot reached up and smoothed a wayward lock of tousled blonde hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. That was possibly one of his favorite things about Parker. She didn't play games. For better or worse, she'd give it to you straight. If she wanted to know, she asked. Now that had led to some _interesting_ conversations in the past, like when she'd asked in the middle of a meat marked what happened to all the cute parts of the baby cow when Eliot had brought her along to pick up some veal… or when she'd questioned why the football players kept grabbing their crotches on the field, while in the middle of a television store… that one had been with Hardison, thank god. Eliot wasn't sure he'd have gotten her out as smoothly as the hacker had.

Eliot snapped back to attention, realizing Parker was still waiting, watching him. "I don't want to share," he finally said. And left it at that. After all, he wasn't sure he could explain it any better.

Parker's eyes narrowed just a bit, and her head tilted to one side as she studied him. There was a long, slow second of silence, and then she smiled. "Ok," she said, and made to roll off him.

Eliot pinned her against him. "Whoa, darlin'," he drawled. "Where do you think you're going?"

Parker squirmed a little. "I need a shower and clean clothes," she said. She scrunched her nose at him. "So do you."

Eliot grinned. "Isn't that interesting?" he said.

* * *

Eliot was resisting the urge to whistle as he slipped in the back door of the house Hardison and Nate were using as a base. He and Parker were set up at the hotel, along with Sophie… that was for the con. But Nate and Hardison needed to be out of sight for the plan to work. Parker was right behind him.

He'd always been a big fan of water conservation, he thought cheerily. Save the planet and all that shit. Yep. BIG fan.

Eliot jumped as Parker's finger drilled into his ribs. "You're humming," she said as he turned his head to glare at her. She smirked. He rolled his eyes.

"Eliot, do you want a beer, darling?" Sophie's voice called from the kitchen.

Eliot stepped away from Parker, who drifted toward the living room and the screens that Hardison had set up, and into the kitchen. "Thanks," he said, accepting the cold bottle from Sophie.

"You look… happy," Sophie said, eyeing him. She smiled, rather knowingly. "Anything you'd like to share?"

"Nope," Eliot said and took a drink. Poker face, poker face, poker face…

"Hmm," Sophie hummed, and smiled again. "Food's in the living room."

That was enough for Eliot and he beat a hasty retreat. Hardison was spread out on the couch, wireless keyboard in hand and two measly monitors hanging in front of him. He was currently bemoaning to Parker the lack of a good T-something connection, Eliot wasn't really that curious. Nate was sitting, sipping a glass of something on the rocks. Eliot had to figure Nate had brought the booze with him, rather than rely on local supplies. Food was on the coffee table, and Eliot snagged a box of what looked like beef and broccoli before dropping into the overstuffed chair off to the left.

"We're all here now," Nate said, raising his voice just a little to interrupt Hardison. "Let's run it, Hardison."

"Right, fine, let's show them all what I can do even with substandard working conditions," Hardison said. Parker drifted away from the hacker and slipped down to sit on the floor in front of the coffee table, eyeing the boxes in front of her contemplatively. Eliot leaned over and tapped the box of Szechwan chicken silently with his chopstick and Parker grinned and snatched it up, chopsticks already in her hand. How the hell she moved that fast, he'd never know.

He felt eyes on him and didn't bother to look at Sophie. Instead he kept his eyes on the monitors and shoved a bite of Chinese in his mouth. Poker face, poker face, poker face…

"Meet Gerald Pitts," Hardison announced, pulling up a photo from the race earlier today. It was the greasy little bookie. "Got a rap sheet full of petty crimes, all gambling related. Illegal dice games, under the table betting, etc, etc… Oh, and my personal favorite, fixing dog races."

"How do you fix a dog race?" Sophie wondered out loud. She shook her head at Hardison. "Never mind, I really don't want to know."

"If he's been willing to fix dog races, I'd bet he'd be willing to fix car races," Nate said.

"Guy's address is listed as the Big Apple," Hardison went on, "but he's got no charges there for the past year or so. Lotta hotels and bars in the same towns as rally stages, though." Credit card receipts flipped up and slid by, Eliot taking it all in.

"He got any mechanical background, or is he paying someone to do the actual fixing?" Eliot asked.

"Naw, no getting his hands dirty for our man," Hardison said. He pulled up another picture. "Meet Tiny Tim."

"He's not very tiny," Parker observed. Eliot snorted. Yeah. That was one way of describing the clearly hulking man occupying the screen. Had to be six foot, seven inches or so… heavily muscled and tattooed, nose ring, bald head. Hell, the guy just screamed 'thug'.

"He used to work for Atlantic City casinos, as a head cracker," Nate told them. "He was, ah, let go by the bosses there because he got too enthusiastic with his work."

"Tiny Tim _does_ however, have a brother who owns a repair shop, still in Atlantic City," Hardison jumped back in.

"Is the brother involved?" Sophie asked, cocking her head.

"Nope, looks clean," Hardison said. "Got credit card charges that put him in Atlantic City all this time. He ain't traveling with his brother."

"So why haven't we seen this guy?" Eliot asked, setting down his nearly empty carton and pointing toward the screen with his beer in hand. "Guy that big, that ugly, he stands out."

"Probably laying low," Nate said. "Staying away from the races to avoid suspicion."

"Ah, but here is why I am the master," Hardison said and tapped keys. "Cams from tonight at the bar… please look to the left side of your screen and observe the ugly mass of humanity currently sucking up to the local skirts."

Eliot watched Tiny Tim trying to get it on with some rather long-faced woman in a too-tight denim skirt, and saw the temper flash across his face as he was thoroughly dissed.

"He's cranky," Parker declared.

"I should say so," Sophie murmured, cocking her head as Tiny Tim slammed his glass on the table in a clear fit of anger.

"Right, so, here's the plan," Nate said, setting his glass down and rubbing his hands. "We need to get both guys in the act. Eliot, you and Parker make an appearance in the bar tomorrow after the special stage. Play up your wins, make some friends. Stay out of trouble. Hardison, we'll need to rig the rally car with surveillance so we can catch these guys in the act. We turn them over to the local cops, game over. Easy."

"I hate it when he said, 'easy'," Eliot said conversationally to the room. "It never works that way."

Out of the blue, Parker growled. "There's Dumbass," she said, glaring at the screen.

"Probably drinking his sorrows away after loosing to you, Mama," Hardison said easily, shutting the screens down. "After all, you the queen of the track." He suddenly looked thoughtful. "We should get t-shirts!"

Eliot groaned and sat back in his seat. Right. T-shirts. Nate's plan wasn't bad, he though, it certainly was simpler than a lot of the others they'd run before. But it left an uneasy feeling in his gut and he wasn't sure why. His eyes dropped to rest on Parker as she chattered at Hardison about how she wanted the shirts to be lime green. With sparkles. One thing was sure, he was keeping Parker close until this was over.

* * *

So everyone enjoyed their weekend? I'm glad my little bit of smut managed to help with that… Thanks for all the compliments. I do enjoy my work. *wink, wink*


	8. Chapter 8 Smut!

Chapter 8

Eliot was still mulling that uneasy feeling he had about the whole plan on the drive back to the hotel. The last time he'd felt this way, someone had tried to blow up his truck. And then tried to booby trap his apartment. And finally tried to shoot him in the head. He'd learned to pay attention to the feeling.

Parker was quiet next to him, but he could feel her curious eyes slipping over his way periodically.

"You're worried," she finally said, squirming around in her seat to face him. Eliot smiled just a little. He was impressed she'd held it in that long. "Why?"

He shook his head. "No real reason," he said. "Just gotta feeling."

Parker frowned at him, and he glanced quickly at her before returning his eyes to the road. "Your feelings usually mean Columbians are about to attack us," she said bluntly.

"What?" Eliot said, surprised. "Where'd you get Columbians?"

"Oh, couple of years ago," Parker said, waving her hand airily. "You can't trust the Columbians. Almost as bad as the Russians."

"Russians? Parker, there aren't any Russians in this job," Eliot started, feeling a bit befuddled. It was a common feeling around Parker. Someone, her conversations often jumped several spaces at a time, and that was hard to keep up with.

"I _know_, Eliot," and he could just hear the eye roll. "But if you've got a feeling then maybe we should be looking for them. Or the Columbians."

Eliot rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Parker. There are no Columbians or Russians in this job," he said slowly and deliberately. He held up a hand as she opened her mouth. "BUT, I think your point is that if I'm uneasy, there's usually a reason for it. Am I right?"

"Well, of course," Parker said. "Isn't that what I said?"

Eliot snorted, and then grinned. Why the hell not. "Yeah, darlin', that's what you said."

* * *

Eliot parked the Camry at the hotel and pulled the keys out of the ignition. He sat for a moment, not getting out of the car. He was suddenly a little nervous. Hell, ok, a lot nervous.

And Parker being who she was, so damn smart that she didn't know it, picked up on it. "What's wrong?" she asked, looking at him. Her eyes widened, and she looked around quickly. "Are we checking for Columbians again?"

Eliot groaned. "No. There are no Columbians." He took a deep breath, and rolled his head on the headrest to look at her. "Are you coming to my room?" he asked, stomach knotted up.

Parker was still looking suspiciously outside. "Of course I am," she said, peering at a red pickup in the far corner of the garage. "It's a lot nicer than my room."

Eliot opened his mouth, then shut it. That wasn't really the answer he was looking for, but he'd take pretty much anything. "Right," he muttered, and opened the car door. He stalked his way through the lobby, Parker trailing just behind him, still scanning for imaginary Columbians. He might have punched the elevator button a little hard, but that was just because the damn thing was taking so long to arrive. And if the other couple who got on the elevator gave him leery looks, he was sure it was because they thought he was a celebrity in disguise, not because he was scowling.

The elevator dinged, and he and Parker stepped out onto their floor. Parker brushed by him, and danced ahead, holding up his key card with a smile. "Parker," he started, reluctantly amused by her smirk and quick fingers. She had the door open and had vanished into the room in a flash, and Eliot had to hustle to catch the door from closing and locking him out of his own damn room.

He stepped in, and shut the door. Parker hadn't flipped the lights on yet, and he took a step or two forward to reach for the switch. Instead, he was hit from the side with soft, warm woman. Arms wrapped around his neck, a mouth found his and Eliot went stumbling backward and found himself flat on his back on his bed.

Parker smiled down at him. "Silly Eliot," she said softly, leaning down to kiss his nose. "I can't do this if I'm in my room." And then her mouth fastened onto his.

Eliot figured his brain was working somewhere, and managed to wrap his arms around Parker, plastering that wonderful lithe body against his. She kissed with her whole self, he thought dazedly, lips and tongue and mouth and hips and legs and… He was already hard as a rock just from her tongue tracing the seam of his lips.

Parker hummed against his mouth, and then her lips slipped away, over his cheek and down his jaw. Eliot's breath caught as those lips nipped and soothed down his neck, all the while her hands had somehow slipped under his t-shirt and were gliding up his sides. Long, slender, thieving fingers… so clever and so dangerous. They were pulling off his shirt, and he wasn't fighting it one bit. Then that mouth was on his chest, those fingers teasing and taunting his flat nipples.

"Parker," he choked out as her mouth closed over the other. His hands finally decided to wake up, and he reached for her, pulling at her own clothing. God, he wanted his hands on her breasts. Soft, warm, so sexy… "Have I mentioned I love that you don't wear bras?" he managed to get out.

She hummed against his skin, as his thumbs rubbed her nipples. "One less thing to snag in an airduct," she sighed. Those magic fingers danced lower, tracing and teasing at his belly. Eliot could feel his muscles constrict as her hot breath brushed over his skin. "I like your bellybutton," she said, and kissed it.

Eliot was startled into a laugh, ok, a rather tense one, considering where her hands and mouth were. "Ok," he strangled out. Her fingers were unsnapping his jeans and pushing them off his hips, along with his boxers. Eliot rather mindlessly lifted his hips, letting her.

"And I _really_ like this," Parker murmured before stroking his erection. Eliot's vision swam and a groan slipped out.

"Good," he barely managed to grunt before all the breath left his body and her hot, wet mouth closed over the tip of him. "Oh, god…" her hands were teasing between his legs, her mouth was… well… Eliot swallowed hard, feeling the coiling in the pit of his stomach. Naked. He needed her naked.

He jerked away from Parker, only to rear up and flip her to the bed, pinning her down. His hands fumbled just a little as he stripped her pants and panties off as fast as he could. "How the hell do you do these things to me," he muttered, closing a mouth over her bare breast and sucking. Parker gave a little shriek and he switched to the other mound. "Knots. You tie me in knots," he growled and tasted the second breast.

Then they were rolling and Parker was on top of him again and she was leaning over him, panting. Her hands were on his biceps, pressing them into the bed as she straddled his chest. They both lay still for a moment, chests heaving. Eliot couldn't help but notice the nice things that breathing hard did to Parker's currently naked chest. And then Parker slid her hands up his arms, over his shoulders, and came to rest on his chest while her hips slipped down his body and ohgodyes she slid that hot, wet center right over him.

Eliot jerked his hips, hands going to her waist, and Parker shifted and then he slid in. They both moaned, Parker a high, breathy sound that was so damn hot, and Eliot low and almost pained. Her body, joined to his… it was so damn good. Better than he'd ever felt before, and that was saying something.

Then Parker rolled her hips, and she began to move, and it was even better. How could he feel this good? It wasn't simple sex, it couldn't be… no one else had made him feel this combination of need and want and desperation and… and,,, _home._

Eliot stared up at the vision above him, pale, slim body shining in the night, and stroked his hands up her sides. Parker hummed with pleasure and he did it again. And again. And then he caressed every inch of skin he could reach and some that he couldn't. He reared up and kissed her, pressing her harder into his lap, letting her grind against him as he felt her body quicken. He slipped a hand between them, stroking and rubbing and feeling her draw tighter and tighter until she came with a little cry and that set him off and his vision went dark and his body exploded.

And underneath it, he managed to hold onto her the whole time, keeping her close and keeping that feeling of… well… yeah.

* * *

Afterward, he lay in his bed, wrapped around her as she slept. She used his arm as a pillow, her back snug to his front. His other arm was wrapped around her waist, his leg tossed over hers.

Eliot listened to Parker breath, peaceful, quiet, deep. It might be one of his new favorite sounds. Right up there with that breathy little moan, he thought, lips curving just a little. That sound _definitely_ ranked at the top of his list. He pressed a soft kiss to one pale, bare shoulder.

"Sleep, Eliot," she mumbled. She sighed and snuggled back a little more, pressing her bottom into his groin and her back more firmly against him.

Eliot smiled and kissed her skin softly again. "You, too," he said quietly.

"I am," she sighed, voice trailing off.

Eliot tucked her head more securely under his chin, and smiling, closed his own eyes.

* * *

Look at that, more smut! What on earth has gotten into me? Oh yeah, horny Eliot and Parker, that's what. Enjoy!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Frankly, Eliot was not a fan of mornings. Given how little he slept, he always resented the need to get up and moving. Didn't mean he didn't get his butt in gear every day, of course, but he didn't _like_ it.

He particularly didn't like it today, considering his morning consisted of a naked Parker wrapped up against him. Who in their right mind would want to get up from that? But mornings were his prime time to get a workout in, before the rest of the world woke up and demanded attention. Parker had started training with him months ago, pretty much when he'd started teaching her to fight. That fabulous body of hers needed constant training to stay as limber and quick as it did, and Eliot had found himself amazed at how hard the blonde worked at it. Parker had given him a look, he remembered, when she'd caught him regarding her with surprise, and told him that she might be a little crazy, but she was also a damn good thief. He'd shut up at that point, and instead had offered to spot her on the weight machines.

But the light was streaming in his window, and Eliot knew they needed to get a workout in before the day started. So here he was, very, very reluctantly waking up the sleeping woman in his arms.

"Parker," he said softly. He kissed her shoulder and stroked his hand down her arm. "Parker," he said again.

She wrinkled her nose and burrowed deeper into the pillow. "No," she said, sounding remarkably awake for someone he'd have sworn was asleep just a few moments ago.

"No?' Eliot asked, amused. He traced the line of her shoulder with one finger. "No to what?"

"You're going to want me to go hit something," Parker said, scrunching her eyes shut rather determinedly. "And I want to stay in bed and then eat Capt'n Crunch. And then have more sex."

Eliot grinned. He'd always thought she was a pretty smart woman. "Yeah, 'fraid so, darlin'," he said, kissing her shoulder. "We need to get a workout in before the race this morning." He smirked against her skin. "Don't want you getting fat from all this sitting down in the car."

He felt Parker huff, and let her squirm around in his arms to face him. Her eyes were open now and she glared at him. "Sophie said a guy is never ever ever supposed to call a woman fat," she announced.

Eliot laughed and leaned down to thoroughly kiss her. "Mornin'," he said softly, when they separated.

"Hi," Parker said, lips curving just a little. Then she glared again. "Maybe YOU'RE fat." She looked smug.

Eliot laughed again, and rolled, sitting up. "Anything you say, darlin', long as you get that pretty little ass up outta bed." It was a wretch, getting out of that bed, but it had to be done. Dammit.

"It IS a pretty ass, isn't it," Parker said comfortably, craning her head to look over one shoulder while she walked, naked, toward her clothing. How the hell she managed to do that and not fall over, he'd never know. He admired the part of her anatomy in question while she did so.

He pulled on some workout clothes, and hunted around in his suitcase for a bandana. Parker had covered up, in the meantime, and was heading for the door. "Meet you down there," she sang out.

"Ok," Eliot barely managed to get out before she was gone and the door was closing behind her. He stretched a little, rolling his shoulders, before spotting the bandana in question and heading out the door himself. So they wouldn't be naked. He still was going to go roll around with Parker.

* * *

They were trooping back upstairs, sweaty and muscles loose and warm, when Parker's cell rang this time. Eliot blinked in surprise.

"I thought you'd stopped carrying that thing," he said as she pulled the phone out of a pocket. And since when had there been pockets and cell phones in those skin-tight yoga pants? he thought, scrutinizing her backside. Purely for work purposes, of course. "Haven't seen you answer it all con."

Parker shrugged. "I'm always with you. Why do I need _my_ phone? You carry yours." She flipped it open. "Good morning, Sophie," she said cheerfully. "Did you want to work out with Eliot and me? Because you missed it."

Eliot snorted, picturing the elegant brunette letting him throw her around on the mats the way Parker did. Nah. That wasn't really Sophie's way. He knew she carried a hidden stiletto for emergencies, REAL emergencies, and that she knew how to use it. After all, he'd taught her.

"Can you get me Capt'n Crunch?" Parker was saying. "And I need a shower. Because I kind of stink. So does Eliot." She leaned over as they walked up to the elevator and sniffed at him loudly. "Eeww."

Eliot leaned back and swatted at her half-heartedly. "Hey," he protested. Then he got a wiff of himself. Well. Ok.

"Ok, see you in a bit," Parker said, bouncing on her toes as the elevator doors opened. She shut the phone as they stepped in.

"So, I guess you're having breakfast with Sophie," Eliot said. Not entirely sure he was happy about that. One, he'd rather have breakfast with Parker. Or have her _for_ breakfast, whichever. And two, he didn't trust the grifter to pry and pull things out of Parker that he didn't really want to share yet. And he kind of thought Parker didn't want to share yet.

Parker leaned back on the railing of the elevator as it started dinging its way up. "Yep," she said. "She promised me Capt'n Crunch."

Eliot nodded and crossed his arms. He stood there in silence, and when their floor dinged, stepped forward out of the doors. He glanced about, automatically checking things, not even really thinking about it as he walked toward his room.

"So, I guess I'll…" he started as he came to his door. But when he turned to face Parker, he found her right behind him, so close she was nearly plastered to his front.

Parker snatched the key card from his hand and opened his door herself. Eliot stood surprised for a moment. "Wait, I thought you were eating with Sophie," he called after her, hastily stepping into his room after her. The woman was already pulling clothes off and the door wasn't even shut. He remedied that in a hurry.

"I need a shower," Parker said, as if it was obvious. "I stink. So do you."

Eliot blinked for a moment, then grinned. "Right. Sorry." And with that he wasted no time following the blonde into his own bathroom, dropping his pants on the floor next to her shirt.

* * *

Parker was off with Sophie, and Eliot had some time to kill. He'd thought about seeing if Nate needed anything done, but popping his earbud in and catching Nate and Hardison bickering about that stupid T-whatever connection thing again convinced him to stay offline.

Instead, he headed for the track. Today was another special stage, where Parker was going to be trying to drive as fast as possible again. Eliot grinned, thinking about the little blonde thief's face while behind the wheel. Hot. Very hot.

They were on a different route, however, than last time, different roads and surfaces. Something was tickling his guy about this, and damned if he was going to ignore it. After all, you never knew when Russians would show up. Or Columbians. Eliot grinned.

Something had Eliot pulling over and parking off the road, behind some trees a good half-mile from the start of the course. It was still early, hours before anyone should be arriving. Heck, he wouldn't even expect to see the local officials setting up barriers yet. Eliot headed back through the trees in the direction of the roads they'd be using, prepared for a bit of a hike.

He hit on the road in about a half-hour, but choose to stay off it, up on the embankment. He squatted down, studying the surface. Good hard dirt, some gravel mixed in. He squinted ahead. Was that a creek around the corner? He thought he heard water.

Then Eliot frowned. Wait. That wasn't water. That was a car. He dropped lower down into the bushes, letting the undergrowth hide the denim of his jeans and the lighter tones of his skin. Sure enough, around the corner came a car. A rally car. Eliot's eyes narrowed.

It was going slowly, but he recognized the driver regardless. Dumbass. Eliot reached up and flipped his earbud on. "Nate," he said softly.

"Eliot?" Nate's voice answered in his head. "Something up?"

"I'm out at the track," Eliot said. "I've got Dumbass, Darrien, out here in his car. His co-driver's with him."

"What?" Parker's voice sounded. Loudly. "He's cheating! That poop-head is cheating!"

Eliot winced a little. "Not so loud, babe," he said softly, watching the car cruise slowly past him. "Yeah. He's cheating. Guess we know how he does so well, huh?"

"You're not supposed to get to cheat!" Parker was pissed. Yessirree. "These are blind races, there's no reconnaissance allowed!"

Eliot chose to ignore that technically, he was doing the same thing. Well, sort of. He wasn't actually driving the course. And he'd come out to see if he could find something for the con, not to get an advantage for Parker in the race. She didn't need one.

"Easy, darlin'," he said softly, watching to see if the car would return the same way. Judging by the sound of its motor dwindling in the distance, no.

"Parker, you can't accuse Darrien of cheating," Nate was saying in his head as he focused back in.

"Why not?" she demanded.

"Parker, then Darrien would want to know how YOU knew he was cheating, and Eliot would be accused of the same thing," Sophie piped up. Huh. Guess their little breakfast was over. Eliot judged the car to be far enough away, and silently stood up.

"Guys, I'm just going to do a quick walk-through and make sure there's been no sabotage," Eliot said quietly, eyes and spare ear intent. "Meet you back at the hotel in an hour, Parker." He flipped the bud back off, cutting off Parker's rant and bent low, slipping through the undergrowth along the side of the road. He just didn't trust the guy, he thought. Didn't trust him at all.

* * *

No smut this time, just story. Sorry. Lol. And maybe I should have made the Columbians the Spanish Inquisition. Because, you know, no one ever expects the Spanish Inquisition. Enjoy!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Parker was still pretty steamed when Eliot got back to the hotel. He hadn't found anything wrong with the track, and had kept his eye on Darrien as he'd driven slowly around the course. Eliot had been a little curious as to why the guy was going so slowly. Feeling out the surface, maybe? Committing turns to memory? Something just wasn't right.

Parker was zipping up her driving suit, still muttering under her breath in what he was pretty sure was Hungarian, and who knew where she'd picked up _that _language. Eliot reminded himself to ask sometime. After all, they were… something now, right? He could ask some of those questions.

"Parker, you ready for this?" Eliot finally interrupted her mumbled rant. "Your head on straight?"

Parker's head swung around to look at him and she glared. "I'm going to kick his ass," she said. "Really really really hard, and I'm going to drive really fast, and he's going to wish he'd done a better job cheating." She sniffed. "Some of us don't need it."

Eliot grinned a little, but reached over and laid a hand on the back of her neck, tugging her closer to him. "You cool?" he asked, sliding his other arm around her waist and tucking his chin in her hair. Not only did he get to enjoy the feeling of her pressed against him, he also got to see how tensed up she really was. He stroked his spare hand up and down her back. Not too bad, he thought.

Parker reached up, grabbed his ears and made him wince while she tugged his head around to stare her in the eyes. "I'm going to beat him," she said slowly and clearly. "By a lot. I'm cool."

Eliot risked the tender flesh of his ears, and dipped his head to drop a kiss on Parker's lips. "Ok," he said. "Let's go kick some Dumbass."

* * *

It was the same controlled chaos as yesterday at the racesite. Cars moving in and out of the track, drivers milling around, waiting their turns to run, spectators wandering back and forth, around, while they chatted with their favorites. Parker drew up into an area that wasn't covered with people yet, and parked.

"I'm going to check our start time," she said, opening her door.

"Parker," Eliot said, catching her eye as she made to get out. She looked back at him, door already open. "Watch your back. Something ain't right out here."

Parker nodded, and stepped out of the car. Eliot got out as well, and shutting his door, watched as she headed for the driver's table. He leaned back against the car, crossing his arms and scanned the crowd behind his shades.

He recognized most of the drivers at this point, and their co-drivers. Lotta family members/spectators he wasn't clear on, but they were relatively easy to pick from their behavior. He searched until he spotted Darrien, over by his car. The guy was on his cell, and as Eliot watched, said something to the person on the other end that made him smirk before hanging up. Yep. Something definitely not right.

"Hardison, any way you can find out who Darrien was just talking to?" Eliot said quietly.

"Please, my man, that's child's play for someone like me," Hardison said in his head. "Coupla minutes, and I can tell you what size underwear he's got on."

"No one wants to know that, Hardison," Nate's voice responded.

"I'm just sayin'," Hardison started, but Eliot tuned him out. Darrien was conferring with his co-driver, and they were glancing toward the driver's table. Where, coincidently, Parker was just finishing up and leaving. He did not like this. Not at all.

"This guy is way too fixated on Parker," Eliot muttered. "Something wrong, here."

"Parker the queen of the track, that's what's wrong," Hardison responded. "Dumbass gettin' beat by a _girl_, booyah…"

Parker strolled up to him, looking calm and cocky. "We got about a half-hour," she said. She leaned against the car next to him. Her eyes swept around, following his gaze. "You think he's up to something?" she asked. "Besides, well, cheating."

Eliot shrugged. "Not sure," he said. "Just…"

"Great," Parker muttered. "Another feeling." She heaved a sigh. "Sophie, keep your eyes open for Columbians, would you? Or Russians?"

Eliot groaned as Sophie answered, confused. "Russians? Are we expecting them on this job…?"

* * *

They were in position, ready and watching the clock tick down. Eliot counted it for Parker.

"… Five, four, three, two, one…" he said, and Parker dropped her foot and launched them into space. Eliot hung on. Holy fuckin' crap, she wasn't kidding about kicking Darrien's ass.

"Sharp left turn ahead, gravel," he managed to get out before Parker was downshifting and they went sliding around.

Dammit. They were really flying. Eliot's stomach leapt as Parker launched them over a small hill and they went airborne for a few seconds. Bam! They landed hard, wheels still spinning and kept going.

About halfway through the course, Eliot was pretty sure that no one was near their time. By his watch, they had a solid three minutes on the last race at this rate. Which was huge. HUGE.

They were coming up to a tight left turn, up against a dirt embankment. Parker downshifted in anticipation, lips tight with concentration, and then Eliot heard it. One single CRACK that was sickeningly familiar to him. And then the car lurched wildly.

Parker was fighting for control. "We lost a tire," she yelled at him as they skidded and spun. That corner was awfully close, that high embankment too near, and Eliot hung on, grimly sure that they were going to flip. The back end spun out, and he was pretty sure one tire came off the ground, and then they were sliding to an abrupt stop.

Eliot blew out a breath. "Nice job," he managed. His brain started working again. "Stay down, Parker," he ordered, opening his door and slipping out. Sure enough, their right front tire was blown. Crouching down, he eyed it carefully. He'd have to take it back to the room, but he was pretty sure that someone had shot it out.

"Nate, we got a problem," he said grimly, only to whip his head around and glare at Parker. "Dammit Parker, I told you to stay in the car!"

Parker was making her way rather quickly around to where he was, a spare tire rolling in front of her. "Fuck that, Eliot, we need to get this changed," she said, voice full of controlled rage.

"Parker, someone just shot out our tire," Eliot said sharply, grabbing her by the scruff of her neck and dragging her down to him, pressed up against the dirt wall behind him. "That's not an easy shot, and they could very well be looking to shoot us again."

"You know who this was," Parker fired back. "And I'll be fucking dammed if I'm going to let the sonofabitch win!"

"Parker, careful, Eliot needs to make sure that you're clear," Nate started.

"Parker, I am NOT going to watch you get shot for a fucking race," Eliot interrupted, rage building in his stomach. He could feel the violence rolling beneath the surface, just waiting to be left out.

"Then let's change this tire and get the fuck out of here," Parker shot back, sounding almost as mad.

"DAMMIT," escaped before he could stop it. Reaching over, fucking all the listeners and Nate's voice in his ear, Eliot dragged Parker against him by her neck and kissed her hard. When he broke the kiss, he glared at her. "Get in the car," he ordered, reaching for the tire. "Get in the fucking car, Parker, and be ready to get out of here!"

Eliot started the fasted tire change of his life, while Parker slipped into the driver's seat through Eliot's open door. Eliot tossed the bad tire at her as soon as he got it off, and Parker grunted as she caught it, working it into the backseat while Eliot got the spare on.

"Ok, go!" he finally said, diving into the passenger seat and pulling the door behind him. Parker was off like a rocket, and Eliot was hastily strapping himself in as dirt flew behind them.

"You guys ok?' came Nate's voice.

"Just dandy," Parker said through her teeth. "Now shut up, I have a race to win."

* * *

Plot! It's a plot! I know, who wants that when you could have smut. Eh, there had to be SOME plot in here… Enjoy!


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Parker braked with some extra violence when they reached the end of the course, Eliot thought. He was still grimly hanging on, rattling off the pacenotes as fast as he could to keep up with her. Frankly, he was pretty sure she'd have rolled the car if she'd thought it would get them across the line faster.

They got the nod from the timing official, and Parker revved the engine and pulled off sharply into the parking area. She'd no sooner got the engine off than there were other riders coming towards them, curious about their time and her sharp finish. Eliot followed the little blonde out of the car, hearing her door slam and trying to keep his own face from being too pissed off.

"Hey, Parker, how'd your…" one of the other drivers started, but he was interrupted by Parker pushing past him. Eliot whipped his head around. Crap. Where was she going?

"Parker," Sophie's voice warned in his head.

"Dammit, Parker," Eliot growled, seeing where she was heading. His driver, all five-foot nothing and a hundred twenty pounds of her, had spotted Darrien over by his car. He was currently laughing at something with his co-driver, and now Parker was making a direct beeline for him.

"Hey, Dumbass," Parker yelled at him. Darrien turned to face the little blonde fury heading towards him and crossed his arms smugly.

"So, blondie, had a little trouble today?" he smirked, and then BAM! Parker hauled back and slammed her fist into his jaw. The man, twice her weight, staggered back, bumping into his car. Eliot was right behind Parker, grabbing her and hauling her back against him. He could see this turning into an all-out brawl. He also couldn't help a trickle of pride at how his girl had just taken down a man that size with one punch.

"What the fuck…?" Darrien bit out, getting his balance back and starting forward. Eliot put himself between the two of them. Fast. Fortunately, a couple of other drivers had the good sense to get in front of Darrien as well.

"You want to cheat, Dumbass," Parker was shouting over his shoulder, "try shooting the tire of someone who can't handle it. Yeah, that's right, I know it was you!"

"You're insane," sneered Darrien. "I didn't go near your race. Didn't have to, you just aren't the hot stuff you think you are." He turned and looked at his co-driver, making a mockery of Parker. "Just like a woman," he said loudly. "Maybe it's that time of the month, huh?"

Eliot heard the growl behind him, and had to physically wrap his arms around Parker again to keep her from launching herself at the big man. "Easy," he gritted out as she struggled in his arms. "Chill, Parker, now!"

"I'm going to kill him," Parker declared. And scary thing was, Eliot wasn't sure she wasn't serious. Everyone else probably took it as hyperbole, but he knew the woman in his arms better than that.

"Parker, Parker!" Eliot finally yelled in her ear. Parker stopped fighting him, but was still tense and straining in his arms. He didn't dare let go of her yet. "We got no proof, Parker," he said, loud enough that the people around could hear. "We got no proof, babe, but I know, you know and all these folks know that you're the better driver. After all, someone shot your tire out and you still managed to finish ten seconds behind the lead."

"No worries, Parker," that older driver Parker had been talking to the day before, "we know what's what." The older man shot a glare towards Darrien. "Believe me, we know."

Eliot finally felt Parker relax. "Ok," she muttered. "Ok." Eliot cautiously loosened his arms and let her go, sliding his hands to rest on her shoulders. She was still strung tight, but wasn't about to explode anymore. Now, _he_ would still like to walk over and beat the crap out of the jackass, however…

"Hang on," he said, squeezing her shoulders warningly. He stepped around Parker and walked up to Darrien.

"What do you want, pretty boy?" the taller man sneered, turning to face him.

Eliot smiled. "You really should stop insulting my partner," he said.

* * *

Parker was still complaining as they pulled into the hotel. "But YOU got to hit him again," she groused.

Eliot blew out a breath. "Drop it, Parker," he muttered.

"I wanted to hit him! Lots more!"

Eliot climbed out of the door and slammed it. "Dammit, Parker, I told you to drop it!"

Parker slammed her own door and glared across the top of the car at him. "No! I wanted to beat him up!"

"Fuck… Parker… I did it for you, ok?" Eliot finally broke and snapped at her. Dammit. He still had the earbud in, and he was pretty sure everyone just heard that. Reaching up, he pulled it out of his ear and shoved it in his pocket.

Parker slapped her hands on the top of the car. "What do you mean, for me?" she sounded bewildered and still mad. "How was it for me? I wanted to do it!"

Eliot shoved a hand through his hair. He couldn't believe they were having this discussion over top of a rally car, in the parking garage of a hotel in Nowhere, PA. With everyone surely listening. "You're my partner. Someone fucks with you, they fuck with me," he said, trying to keep it calmer and more controlled than he had before. "And my job is the hitter. I take care of it."

Parker heaved a sigh, and dropped her head to rest between her hands on the top of the car for a long moment before looking up at him again. "Is this one of those things we have to talk about?" she asked, looking maybe a smidge calmer. "One of those things that happens when you have sex with someone?"

Aaaand there it was. Great. Eliot was willing to bet he was going to get some phone calls in pretty rapid order. He sighed. "Parker, take out your earbud," he said, and started walking around the car.

Parker was tucking it in her pocket when he reached her, and Eliot put a hand out to her. "Come on," he said, feeling calmer as his fingers wrapped around hers. "Let's go upstairs and I'll explain it all to you."

Parker heaved a sigh. "Dammit," she muttered. "I hate not knowing what's going on."

Eliot squeezed her hand, feeling a surge of warmth through his chest as they started walking toward the hotel. "I know, darlin'," he said quietly. "But that's what I'm here for."

Parker sighed again, and leaned her head against his shoulder as they walked, fingers still linked. "Yeah," she said. "That's good."

* * *

Eliot flipped off his cell phone as they stepped into the elevator. He really did not want to answer any calls right now. He kept a hold of Parker's hand as they leaned back against the railing and watched the numbers tick upward. Parker was quiet next to him, and that gave him a chance to try and sort out what he was going to say to her. Because now she was expecting him to say something. Knowing Parker, who knows _what_ she was expecting, but he'd better come up with something.

Their floor dinged, and the two of them stepped out and silently made their way down the hall, hands still joined. He liked holding Parker's hand, Eliot thought absently. It was slender and surprisingly delicately boned, with those nimble thieving fingers, but it fit beautifully with his. Those long, slim digits curled around his just right.

This time, Parker actually let him keep hold of his keycard and open the room. Eliot led her in, and she kicked the door shut behind them. Eliot headed for the bed. He wanted to be sitting down for this talk.

Parker let him tug her onto the bed next to him, until he was sitting, sprawled, back against the headboard and she was curled into his lap. When they were finally fitted together, Eliot sighed. That felt good.

Parker craned her head and looked up at him expectantly. "So why couldn't I hit him again?" she asked.

Eliot abruptly dropped a firm kiss on her lips. "Don't ever change, Parker," he said, with a healthy dose of humor. Of course the first thing she wanted to know was why SHE didn't get to hit him again.

"Why would I change?" Parker frowned, confused. "I'm me, who else would I be? Unless you mean like a part for a con, like Alice, but that's only for the con, right?"

Eliot chuckled and propped his chin on her hair. "I just mean I like you the way you are. As Parker."

"Oh." Parker was quiet for a second. "Well, I like you as just Eliot, too."

"Yeah?" Eliot was absurdly pleased by that statement. His chest warmed at her words. "Thanks."

"So, WHY couldn't I hit him?" Parker asked again.

Eliot shifted a little, trying to find the right words. "I thought the hit you did get on him was great," he finally said. "Good form, by the way, and he deserved it. But if you'd kept going, it was going to start a problem. Big guy like that, doesn't like getting shown up by a little blonde woman. And then to get knocked off his feet when you punched him? No way he'd have stood for it a second time, and then his co-driver would've gotten involved, and probably some of the other drivers…"

Parker was thinking it through, he could tell. You could almost hear the gears turning. "Ok," she said. "Ok, but why did YOU get to hit him?"

"I only hit him once," Eliot clarified, "and I made it about how he'd spoken to _you_ when I did. And that was ok to the other drivers."

"But WHY?" Parker was getting frustrated. "Why could YOU punch him for me, and I couldn't?"

Eliot resisted the urge to squirm. Dammit. He hated this kind of stuff. It was… sticky. Hard. "Because…" he trailed off. Fine. Man up, Spencer, he thought. "Because when I did it, I was defending my woman. And other men get that, they're ok with that."

"Humph." Parker got very quiet. And Eliot wasn't really sure what to say after that. He wasn't even sure if Parker realized how much he'd just laid on the line. He was rather worried, nervous, even, and that wasn't something that Eliot Spencer was used to feeling.

Parker finally sighed. "Ok," she said. Then she squirmed a little and looked up at his face. Her eyebrows drew together in a question. "Does that mean I get to beat the crap out of someone that insults you?"

Eliot grinned, feeling a whole lot lighter. "Only if I'm done with him," he told her.

Parker snorted. "Screw that," she muttered. "If he wasn't right about you being pretty, I'd get to beat him up."

Eliot laughed and leaned down to kiss her. "I… Don't ever change, Parker," he said again, catching himself. What the _hell_ had just about come out of his mouth? Holy crap. He shook it off. Parker kissed him back, lips firm and tasting as good as every other time he'd kissed them.

"Hmm," she hummed with pleasure. She pulled back and looked up at him. "So, can we have sex now?"

* * *

Bwahahahah… Yep. Stopping there. And making you wait for Monday. Enjoy your weekend, everyone!


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Eliot laughed and leaned down to kiss her. "I… Don't ever change, Parker," he said again, catching himself. What the _hell_ had just about come out of his mouth? Holy crap. He shook it off. Parker kissed him back, lips firm and tasting as good as every other time he'd kissed them.

"Hmm," she hummed with pleasure. She pulled back and looked up at him. "So, can we have sex now?"

Eliot looked down at those blue eyes and felt that warmth spreading through his chest again. This woman, she was something. Something truly unique, truly special. "Nah," he said, a little hoarsely before he rolled them. Lying on top of her, pinning her to bed with his weight, Eliot bracketed Parker's head with his forearms. Gently, he brushed strands of blonde hair out of her face. "This time, lets try something a little different," he murmured and bent his head.

The kiss was long and slow and deep. A savoring, cherishing kiss, rather than the heat and passion and fire they'd had each time before. Eliot eased back and brushed his lips across Parker's again, catching the little sigh that fell from them.

"Why different?" Parker asked, her voice was quiet. Eliot ran his lips over her cheek, pressed soft kisses to her eyelids. "How's it different?" Her voice was heavy now. Languid.

"I'll show you," Eliot whispered and kissed her again. Slowly. Thoroughly. When their lips parted, Parker wasn't the only one breathing heavily and Eliot pressed his lips to just under her jaw to keep her from noticing.

He brought his hands slowly up her sides, a slow drag over the driving suit, up to her shoulders. He traced her collarbone with first his fingers then his lips, tasting the faintest sheen of sweat on her skin. Parker shifted beneath him, another sigh slipping out.

Slowly, Eliot pulled the zipper on the suit, inching it down bit by bit and revealing the pale skin beneath. He pressed his mouth to every bit that he could find. Soft, gentle. Cherishing. Parker sighed again.

Underneath the suit, Eliot found nothing but Parker. No bra, no tank, just soft curves and softer skin. He bit back a groan. Knowing what she was wearing, or rather, _not_ wearing was going to make races harder. Literally. He slipped his hands inside the open zipper of the suit, now parted to her waist, and pressed the sides apart. Parker lifted her arms, helping him as he slipped the sleeves off and bared her to the waist. Those pale, strong arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down for another long, drugging kiss.

Parker sighed again as their lips parted. "I like that," she said quietly, eyes closed and lashes lying against her cheek.

Eliot brushed her face with kisses again, unable to keep from touching her. "Good," he murmured.

"Eliot," she sighed, shifting and finally opening her eyes. Warm pools of blue, fixed on him. "How's this different?"

Eliot skimmed back down her body, fingertips tracing paths that were followed by his lips. He worked on slipping the suit off all the way, baring those fabulous legs and leaving Parker lying on the bed wearing nothing but skin.

He leaned back and surveyed her slowly, from toes to crown of her head. "Tell me when you figure it out," he finally said, and leaned back down to kiss her.

After another long, thorough kiss, Eliot reached and unzipped his own suit, shedding it along with his shorts as quickly as possible. He kept tracing paths across Parker's skin as she laid in front of him. She was being surprisingly passive, surprisingly pliant. He had a feeling that wouldn't last forever, but for the moment, she was letting him just worship her body. Eliot reached back and pulled his t-shirt off with one hand, hauling it over his head.

As he did, he felt slim, cool fingers sliding up his belly, tracing the muscle ridges and then the soft touch of lips. Eliot couldn't restrain the shudder as he dropped the shirt to the side of the bed, and sat back on his heels, letting Parker explore. Her hands, her mouth, they traveled at an agonizing pace slowly up his body, tasting and touching literally every inch of his chest. Then his shoulders, his neck, until finally Parker was kneeling in front of him, her hands cradling his face.

She studied him a long, slow minute, eyes on eyes, faces inches apart. Eliot held very still. She was looking for something, and he wasn't sure what. But those blue eyes were deep and dark and lit with something that made his heart beat a little faster than it should. He kept his eyes on hers and slowly skimmed his hands up her sides and back down again to rest on her hips.

Then Parker smiled at him, not that quicksilver flash that he knew so well, but a slow, ah-hah sort of smile. "I get it," she said, and then shifted forward. Eliot helped her guide her hips as she lifted up, straddling him as he knelt in front of her. She sank down onto his erection, her body hot and warm and snug and made for his. Eliot groaned at the feeling. His fingers dug into her hips just a little bit as he wrestled with his control. He had a plan for how he wanted this to go.

Then Parker leaned forward, inadvertently pressing him deeper, and her bare breasts brushed his chest as she pressed her lips to his. Eliot kissed her, a hot, deep and hungry kiss. Gripping her body in his hands, he slowly flexed his hips. Long. Slow. Deep. Savoring. This was quiet, this was intense, this was… he couldn't quite make his mind go to the word he wanted. Not yet. Not yet.

But Parker was warm and soft and pliant and all those unspoken things back to him as they rocked together on the bed. And when he finally tumbled her back down to lie on her back and they came together those final few times, it was for a slow, intense slide into oblivion like he'd never felt before.

* * *

The pounding on the door was Eliot's first clue that his evening was NOT going be everything he'd hoped. Sophie's irate voice was the second.

"Eliot, you get up and open this door, or I'm coming in, whether you're dressed or not!" sounded slightly muffled through the hotel door. "And don't think I don't know that Parker's in there, too! I want to talk to both of you."

Eliot could feel his shoulders hunch, just a little. For a minute, he almost thought it was his mother on the other side of the door. Accents were wrong, of course, but still… Eliot groaned.

Parker lifted her head off the bed and frowned at the door. "What's the matter with Sophie?" she asked.

Eliot rolled to his feet and reached for a pair of jeans. "Remember how you asked me if this was something we had to talk about because we were having sex?" he said dryly. "You had your earbud in."

Parker lay and stretched her arms above her head. Eliot stopped, one leg in his jeans and the other not, and watched as that slim, pale body contorted and writhed on the bed. Damn. Then he shook himself and pulled the jeans on all the way.

"Hurry up, Eliot," Sophie called.

"I don't see what the big deal is," Parker grumbled, catching the t-shirt he tossed at her. It was one of his, considering she'd been wearing nothing but a driving suit. Literally. Nothing. But. A. Driving. Suit. Digging through his suitcase, he pulled out a pair of boxer and tossed them at her as well.

"Put those on," he ordered her, pointing threateningly as Parker pouted at the clothes in her hands. She grumbled a bit, but did so, and Eliot grabbed himself a shirt as well. Sophie was still banging on the door, and Eliot checked to make sure Parker was actually _wearing_ the clothes before opening the door.

Sophie stood with her hand in mid-air, about to knock on his face, and Eliot caught it easily. "Well, hello, Sophie," he said dryly. "What a pleasure. Won't you come in?"

Sophie glared at him and gave him a little shove before sailing into the room. "You're just lucky it's me and not Nate," she announced. She planted her hands on her hips and surveyed Parker, now sitting in her favorite perch on the windowsill, thankfully clothed, and the rumpled bed. Eliot shut the door, making a small wager with himself about where she was going to start. Him? Parker? The team? There were so many possibilities…

Parker beat him to it. "Hi, Sophie," she said cheerfully, arms loosely wrapped around her knee and other leg swinging freely. Her toenails were unpainted, Eliot noticed. "What's up?"

Sophie blew out a breath. "Oh, heavens," she muttered. She looked around, and grabbed the desk chair that sat in the corner of the room. "I am NOT sitting on that bed," she said, dropping down into it. She turned her eyes on Eliot as he crossed the room to where Parker was. He had an urge to stand in front of her.

Eliot leaned against the window frame, right up against Parker. "Well?" demanded Sophie, eyes fixing on him.

Eliot crossed his arms and kept his poker face. Or at least an attempt at one. After all, she was making him nervous, what with her channeling-his-mother stuff. "What?" he said, neutrally.

"Yeah, what?" Parker asked, propping her chin on Eliot's shoulder.

Sophie stared at the two of them. Her eyes narrowed. There was a long silence, and then she got a Cheshire cat grin. One of those really dangerous ones that usually meant someone was about to loose a large sum of money. Only it was turned on him and Parker, and Eliot couldn't stop himself from shifting, just a hair, farther in front of Parker. Her grin widened.

"Well, I think that answers my question," Sophie announced. She brushed her hands together and stood up. She beamed at Parker and then him. "Don't forget, you're supposed to make an appearance at the bar tonight, see if we can draw out the sabatour." She sailed toward the door and shot another smile over shoulder. "See you later at Nate's!"

And the door clicked shut behind her. Eliot blinked. Ooo-kay… Parker's arms slid around his waist, and her chin was on his shoulder again. "I don't get it," she said, sounding perplexed.

Eliot shook his head. "You got me, darlin'," he said. Women. He would never understand them.

He felt teeth nip at his ear, and grinned. Then again… "I _do_ got you, don't I?" a voice said in his ear. "I like that."

Eliot chuckled, and turned in Parker's arms to press her back against the window. "Me, too," he murmured before ducking his head.

* * *

Happy Monday! A little smut to start your work week? We're starting to get somewhere... maybe halfway through our plot? Enjoy!


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Eliot was sitting back in the corner of the bar, nursing a beer and letting Parker yak it up with some of the other drivers. He watched her, musing on how easy she was with the other men. Parker's social quirks, they didn't seem to jump out when she was talking driving. And if the guys started getting a little too personal, well, he was there to keep her from getting jumpy. He'd already gotten up and strolled over to lean over her shoulder once or twice, ordering another beer, or getting Parker a refill, all so he could wrap an arm around her shoulder and give a guy a good hard stare. As long as no one was hitting on her, Parker was doing fine.

Of course, that was probably being helped by the fact that Nate, Hardison and Sophie were staying quiet on the coms. Not having the peanut gallery constantly chattering in your ear made it easier to stay in character. Eliot had to figure that they were all huddled up somewhere, talking about him and Parker while they listened in to the action at the bar.

Sophie's reaction to the two of them had been both expected and unexpected, Eliot thought, and took a swallow of his beer. She'd gone all parental on them, and then backed off. He wasn't sure why. Eliot wasn't looking forward to their team meeting after this, he figured that Nate was going to have a few words to say to him. Eliot made an effort to unclench his jaw and relax his face. No one was taking Parker away from him. He didn't really care what kind of worries Nate had about the team.

Parker had her head bent over a map with the older driver that seemed to have taken a shine to her, Patrick, Eliot thought his name was. They really seemed to be getting into it, he could tell by the intent look on Parker's face. He watched as the bartender made his way down the line, filling and freshening drinks. Parker looked up and nodded at the guy in a friendly manner, but she wasn't really paying attention. Eliot's eyes narrowed a bit as he watched the bartender. Seemed like the guy gave Parker a little extra look. He didn't like that. Just his luck that his woman was the best looking one in the place tonight. He'd had to sit through a lot of 'looks'.

Eliot ran his eyes around the place. At least Darrien wasn't here. That would have been the icing on his cake.

As Eliot finished the thought and lifted his drink, the door opened, and Dumbass himself walked in. Great, Eliot thought. Another bar fight. Eliot heaved a sigh, and prepared to get up and get in between Parker and Darrien, but to his surprise, Darrien just gave a narrowed look at Parker, then walked away to the other side of the room and a table in the corner. Eliot eased back. Huh. That was interesting.

Parker didn't seem to be aware of Darrien, carrying on with Patrick over that map, but Eliot could see the slight lines of tension in her neck and back. She knew exactly where the man was, all right.

Eliot sipped his beer again, and kept his eyes on Parker. Don't make trouble where there's none, he reminded himself. Sometimes things can go easy.

He caught movement over by the storage room door, and narrowed his eyes again. There was Tiny Tim, unless there was another big ugly tattooed guy in the con. Yep. Tiny Tim.

"Nate," Eliot said softly. "I got Darrien in one corner, seems like he's playing cool. I got Tiny Tim in the storeroom door. No sign of Pitts. What'd you think's going on?"

There was nothing for a moment. Then Nate's voice. "Keep things low key, we just want to see what Tiny Tim's going to do. Hardison says Pitts cell phone puts him a couple of miles away right now."

"Sounds good," Eliot murmured. He cocked his head. "Parker's doing great."

"I can tell," Sophie's voice came. "She sounds very natural and relaxed. Whatever you and Eliot are doing, Parker, keep it up." Eliot watched some of the tension leave Parker's neck and smiled just a little.

"Oh, and Eliot," Nate came back a moment later. "Hardison said to tell you that he traced the call Darrien made before you guys raced, and it was to his wife. No lead there."

"Huh," Eliot mused. Then he frowned. "What the hell's wrong with Hardison's com? How come you're talking for him?"

There was a clearing of a throat in his ear. "There may have been an unfortunate accident to Hardison's earbud earlier," Nate said. "Apparently we're not the best of housemates without our own spaces to retreat to." There was a pause. "And without proper internet connections, Hardison says."

Eliot grinned again. Hah. Accident, his ass. He'd bet that Nate had gotten fed up with Hardison's bitching about 'substandard working conditions', and flushed the damn thing.

Parker was grinning about something, and it made the smile on his face stay just that little bit longer. She seemed much looser and relaxed than she had before. Eliot was keeping one eye on Tiny Tim, lounging as he was in the doorway, and the other on his partner. At least Parker was enjoying herself.

"Eliot, the rally car's at the hotel, right?" Nate's voice interrupted his musing.

"Yeah," Eliot said. Tiny Tim had just gotten a phone call.

"Hardison's getting security feed of it set up, pulling up the hotel cameras," Nate told him.

"What's the call Tiny Tim's getting?" Eliot asked, eyes narrowing. It seemed like a rather… interesting one? Judging from the look on the guy's face. Tiny was awfully pleased about something.

"Hardison's looking," Nate said.

"Dammit," Eliot muttered. Tiny Tim was turning and heading toward the back door. "He's leaving, Nate."

There was a second of silence. "Parker, you ok up there?" Nate asked. "Eliot, keep some eyes on him for now."

Parker waved cheerily at Eliot. Hell, if he didn't know better, he'd say the woman was getting plastered. Eliot frowned a little. She'd had maybe one full drink. He slid out of the booth and took a step toward her, but Parker made an unobtrusive shoo-ing motion with her hand and he stopped. Parker was a big girl. She could take care of herself for a few minutes. Just a few, Eliot thought, casting another glance over his shoulder as he slipped out the backdoor. If she was buzzed, who knew what the woman would do. Drunk Parker was… interesting, to say the least.

Eliot stepped out into the night air and scanned the dark back lot of the bar. He eased the door shut, not wanted to alert Tiny Tim that he was out there with him. He caught a whisper of movement to his left and ducked, just in time to have a tire iron miss his head.

"Dammit," Eliot cursed, and came up swinging. Christ, the guy was big. Solid, heavy, and not altogether agile. That wasn't his style, nope, Tiny was more the hit-them-hard-enough-to-take-them-down-with-one-blow type. Eliot ducked another pass of the tire iron and landed a couple of blows to the guy's stomach. Tiny grunted and brought his hands down toward Eliot's head and shoulders. Eliot rolled out of the way, wincing as those big meaty fists caught him on the right shoulder.

"What's your problem," Eliot hissed at him. After all, he wasn't supposed to know the guy. "Came out here for a piss, man, and you're taking a swing at me?"

Whoosh! There went the tire iron again and this time it ruffled his hair. "Well, hell with this," Eliot muttered. He gave a quick twist, a roll, and before the big man could get his body around, Eliot was behind him and had him in a headlock, cutting off his hair. He kept the pressure up, watching the man flail a little, finally dropping the tire iron as he sank to his knees and then the ground.

Eliot released him cautiously, making sure he was really out for the count and double checked by laying his fingers against the man's pulse in his neck. Yep. Out for a while. Eliot heaved a breath and shoved his hair back. "Nate, you got a plan here?" he asked grumpily. Easy. This was supposed to have been an easy job.

"Leave him there, Eliot," Nate's voice said. "Go ahead and get Parker, and we'll have our meeting. That'll give Tiny Tim time to wake up and try to sabotage your car."

Eliot started back to the back door. "Yeah, about that," he muttered. "We're not actually going to _let_ him damage the car, right?"

"It's under control," Nate said. A little too cheerfully to his mind.

"I hate it when you say that," Eliot growled as he pushed the back door open and slipped back inside. He scanned the main room for Parker. She'd been sitting at the bar a minute ago.

"Parker?" he said softly, trusting her to hear him on coms. "Where've you gone, darlin'?" She wasn't in the main room. His eyes picked out her drink, empty, and Patrick still sitting in the same spot but talking to another driver. He looked in the corner next, and his eyes narrowed when he saw that Darrien was gone. Eliot was getting a feeling again, and it wasn't a good one.

"Parker," he said again. More insistently. "Where are you?" He waited just a minute and then silently cursed and was about to head out of the bar again and start searching.

"E-Eliot…" He suddenly heard her. Not sounding like Parker at all. "Eliot, I don't feel so good…" There was a grunt and a hiss, and Eliot really didn't like the sound of that. He ducked back down the corridor and out the back.

"Parker! Parker, where are you?" Eliot said again, urgently this time. Now there was a gasp and a moan.

"Eliot…" Eliot cursed and started moving faster. "Nate, where is she?" he barked. "Now!"

"D-dumbass…" Parker's voice trailed off into another moan, then a hiss of pain.

"Hardison says she's about 500 feet from the bar, up in the woods behind," Nate said. Eliot could hear the sharpness in Nates voice. Eliot swiveled and changed his direction and moved at a near run. He ducked branches and stepped as soft as he could as he hurried. He could hear sounds now, sounds he that were setting his blood boiling.

There was the sound of Parker, had to be, sounds of pain and confusion. Not words, but just sounds. And a man, talking softly and he didn't want to think what else. They were just ahead of him and Eliot slowed down, crouching and moving as silently as possible. He finally got eyes on the scene and his hands clenched.

Darrien was leaning over Parker, sprawled on her back on the ground. He couldn't see her eyes, but her face was… unfocused. Wrong. Drugged, Eliot would bet. He felt the rage building. It was like a fire, burning, racing through his veins.

"Who's in charge now, bitch?" he taunted. "You're such a hot shot, whatcha gonna do now?" Eliot saw Darrien reach down and that was enough for him.

"I told you not to mess with my partner again," he growled, stepping out. Screw surprise attack. He wanted this son of a bitch to know exactly what was going to happen to him.

Darrien spun around and smirked at him. He pulled out a knife and waved it at Eliot. "Not this time, pretty boy," he taunted. "This time, I'm going to make you pay, too."

Eliot smiled. A slow, predatory smile that had been known in the past to make seasoned mercenaries pee their pants. "Oh, really?" he said softly. And then he moved.

* * *

Tada! Plot! It's all starting to come together… sort of. Keep reviewing, and enjoy!


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Eliot Spencer knew about pain. He knew how to make someone feel every little thing he did to them so intensely that it felt like the world was coming to an end. More, he knew how to make someone realize that dying wasn't what they should fear, instead, they should be afraid of _not_ dying.

And right now, Darrien was feeling that. Eliot stepped back, breathing a little quick, and surveyed the battered heap on the ground in front of him. His lip curled a little, and he stepped back.

"Don't move," he ordered absently as he turned his attention to Parker. "Parker," he said softly, crouching down next to her, and turning her head in his palms. "Parker, wake up."

Parker moaned a little, and her eyes slid open. Her pupils were dilated and unfocused, and she looked simply miserable. "I don't feel good," she said. Her voice was slurring just a touch. If Eliot didn't know better, he'd have thought she was drunk.

"I know, babe, just hang on," Eliot said gently. He ran his hands down her neck, shoulders, and the rest of her, checking for injuries. "Tell me if it hurts, Parker," he ordered quietly. She grimaced when he pressed lightly on her ribs. "There?" he asked.

"He kicked me," she muttered. "I couldn't get up. Why couldn't I get up, Eliot?" She couldn't focus.

"Good question," Eliot growled, and reached back, not even bothering to look. His hand clamped around the kneecap of the man behind him. The one that was currently the size of a basketball and probably shattered. He squeezed.

Darrien shrieked in pain, and Eliot could feel him body arching behind him. "What'd you give her, Darrien?" Eliot said clearly, letting go. "What was it?"

"I… I don't…" Darrien panted. Eliot squeezed again and listened to him scream. Good thing the trees were so thick and the bar was pumping with music. He let go again. "Rohypnol," the crumpled mass of man behind him panted. "Bartender put it in her drink for me."

"How much?" Eliot snarled. Fucker had dosed Parker with a date rape drug? Eliot's blood was ice cold, thinking what might have happened if he'd taken longer with Tiny Tim. He squeezed again, harder this time. "HOW MUCH?"

"I don't know, I don't know," the fucker sobbed. "I don't know, he did it for me, I paid him to do it…"

Parker moaned a little, pulling Eliot's attention back to her. "Hey, there, darlin', stay with me," he said gently, using his free hand to brush her hair back from her face. "I'll get you outta here in a minute. Promise." Shit. No way of knowing how much she'd had. He didn't think she was going to overdose, she was still coherent enough. Only thing to do without getting a hospital involved was to take her back to Nate's, probably, and let it get out of her system.

Eliot turned and leaned over Darrien. "Hey," he said, tapping the man's cheek. "Listen up, Dumbass," he said, watching the man's eyes slide open and the fear that filled them. "Here's what's going to happen. You listening?" When the man didn't respond, Eliot stood up and casually kicked him in the ribs. Like he must have done to Parker. He crouched back down while the man was gagging on his own blood. "You listening?" he said again. Mildly.

The pathetic excuse for a man in front of him nodded frantically. "Good. Here's what happened tonight, Darrien. You got drunk. You wandered out into the woods for a piss. You fell." Eliot shook his head and tsked. "Very clumsy of you. It was quite a fall, and that's what happened to your ribs. And knee. And face, and all those other spots that hurt. You got me?" The other man nodded again.

Eliot smiled. "Good." He started to get up, and then crouched back down. "Oh, and Darrien? Let me make one thing very clear." He waited for a moment, his eyes locked onto the terrified ones on the ground in front of him. "Before I became Parker's partner, I hurt people for a living. So when I tell you that if you ever, _ever_ cause trouble for her or I again, you'll regret it… well, I think you understand that I mean it." Eliot cocked his head and waited for it sink in. "I don't like men who beat on women," he said very softly. "So when I say that if you ever lay a finger, or even a discourteous eye on a woman again, _I will know_… And I will find you, and make tonight feel like a kid's birthday party."

Eliot stood up and smiled at him. Not a nice smile. "Later," he said, and turned back to Parker. His smile shifted, softened. "Come on, darlin'," he crooned at her, crouching back down. "I'm gonna get you out of here and back to Nate, ok?"

Parker was managing a partial pout, even with the drugs. "I wanted to hit him," she slurred. Eliot gently shifted her into his arms, careful of the ribs. The rest was bruises, painful but not serious. Parker's head dropped onto his shoulder as he stood. "I don't feel good, and it's his fault."

Eliot started carefully down the hill, mindful of jostling the woman in his arms. "I know, sweetheart, but you're having a little trouble right now," he said quietly. "Mind if I took care of it for you?"

Parker sighed, a warm exhalation against his neck. "You always take care of me," she said. "Eliot always makes me safe."

Eliot felt that warmth in his chest, and had to clear his throat. "Always will, darlin'," he said softly. "Always will."

* * *

Nate and Sophie and Hardison must have been pressed against the windows waiting for them to pull up, because they all three came rushing out when Eliot pulled up to the house.

"Eliot, how is she?" Sophie came rushing down the steps.

"Easy, Sophie, step back and let me get her in," Eliot ordered gruffly, straightening from the passenger seat with Parker in his arms again. He let Sophie close the car door behind him and trail along behind as he started up the steps. Hardison was holding the door open, looking anxious.

"She gonna be ok, bro?" the hacker asked. His eyes were glued to Parker's face. "How bad'd he dose her?"

Nate was waiting back inside, by the couch. "I've got a med kit ready," the mastermind said as Eliot made his way over to the couch. "Back bedroom." Eliot changed direction at that. Made sense. He needed to tape Parker's ribs, too, and that shouldn't be done in the living room. Plus she'd need to sleep off the drugs, and that was better done in a good bed than the couch.

Eliot laid Parker down on the bed. She was pretty out of it now, the drugs having pulled her under. He straightened up and looked at the three teammates hovering in the doorway. "She'll be ok," he told them, voice a little rough. "I don't think she got too high a dose, and otherwise it's bruises and a couple of cracked ribs. Parker'll be fine."

Hardison opened his mouth, but Sophie beat him to it. "Then we'll let you get her set, and meet us back out in the living room," the grifter said. Firmly. And she followed her words by pulling Hardison with her and giving Nate a pointed look.

Nate stood a moment longer, looking at Parker before raising his eyes to Eliot. The two men studied each other a long moment, before Nate nodded and stepped out, closing the door behind him. Eliot let a breath out that he hadn't realized he was holding. Nate's opinion… mattered to him.

Eliot turned back to the unconscious little blonde on the bed. "Ok, sweetheart," he said softly, "let's get you cleaned up."

* * *

Parker was still unconscious when Eliot stepped back out of the room, leaving the door open. He didn't want to miss her waking up. His anger was tamped down for the moment, but it was still there, rolling beneath the surface. Seeing all the bruises, cut, the smooth perfection of Parker's skin broken… he didn't regret one thing he'd done to Darrien. At all.

Nate was sitting on the couch, glass of booze in his hands. Sophie was perched next to him and Hardison was idly tapping on his keyboard from the other side of the room. They all looked up at him as he came out.

"She ok?" Hardison asked again.

Eliot nodded and sank down into the armchair, taking the beer that Sophie had gotten up to hand him. "Yeah," he said, and swallowed a mouthful gratefully. It helped hold that anger back.

Nate sipped his own drink. "How did he get her?" he asked quietly.

Eliot consciously kept his fingers from tightening too much around the neck of the bottle. "Bartender was in on it," he said. "Dosed her drink."

Hardison cursed. "Fucker's about to get hauled in for kiddie porn," he muttered, fingers flying. "Lots of kiddie porn. Really ugly kiddie porn."

Eliot grinned, just a little. That made him feel maybe a tiny tiny bit better, but he still wanted to go back to the bar and do the same to that fucker that he'd left on the hillside. Nate apparently was watching him. "No, Eliot," he said. "Let Hardison take care of it."

Eliot nodded and drank again. He'd get Hardison to tell him what prison the bartender ended up in, and get in touch with someone who owed him a favor or two. Inmates didn't like guys who messed with kids.

Nate blew out a breath. "Ok," he said. "Well. We're still watching the feed from the hotel on the rally car, waiting for Tiny Tim to make his move," the mastermind said. "We'll send the cops to catch him in the act, and perhaps give Tiny some more interesting documents for the cops to find?" Nate looked at Hardison, while Sophie nodded.

"Question," Eliot said suddenly. "If Darrien wasn't behind the shooting this morning," he asked, "who was?"

Hardison cleared his throat. "Tiny Tim's call earlier," he said and tapped keys. A man's face popped up on the screen, clearly ex-military. Merc, Eliot would guess. Latin American?

"Meet Enrique Rodriguez," Hardison said.

Eliot blinked for a moment, then dropped his head back on the chair. Columbian. It was a fuckin' Columbian. He grinned. Well. Parker would like that one, he thought.

* * *

Ok, fingers need a rest! *massaging digits with a wince*… I think I'm closer on this than I thought to the end… Definitely at least one more smut scene coming… not to mention Parker's revenge.


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

The lights were out, the living room was dark and silent. Nate and Hardison had gone to bed, Sophie had gone back to the hotel. Eliot had decided not to move Parker, to let her finish sleeping off the drug. He didn't want her to wake up, confused, while he was trying to get her into a hotel room. Easier to take care of her here.

So that left Eliot awake, listening to the silence of the house in the dark. It was something he did often, given how little he slept. The night… it was a good time for thinking. Brooding. Remembering. Right now, his head was full of scenes from the day, playing over and over again. What could he have done differently, what should he have seen? How had he missed the bartender? What about the shooting? How was the con going to end? What would Parker do when it was over?

That last one was what had him scowling and slumping in the armchair in the dark. He wasn't used to Parker not being there. Even on cons in the past, she'd popped up during the dark hours, usually at Nate's place, when everyone else was asleep. They'd watch movies, he'd work out, they'd do their own thing in silence. She was just… there. What if that changed when they got back? What if Parker was viewing this… whatever they were as something temporary, something just part of the con?

Eliot dropped his head back and stared at the ceiling. Well, hell, what WAS this thing they were in? Given his level of anxiety over Parker tonight, he was pretty damn sure that he was in deeper than he'd realized. Yeah, he'd told Hardison that he'd never fuck with Parker's feelings, and he'd meant that. Even if all they'd ended up doing together was this one con… he'd have made sure that she was ok. Happy. Comfortable.

But he didn't want just this con together, Eliot thought. His eyes slid over to the dark open doorway of the downstairs bedroom where Parker lay. What he wanted was more. More nights of wrapping himself around her slim form, waking up with legs tangled. He wanted to make her dinner. And breakfast. He wanted to see if she could fit in the air ducts of his place, and he wanted to sit on his couch with her and watch movies. Naked. He wanted to have sex, lots of it, he thought with a smirk, and then shifted.

No, he blew out a breath. That last one wasn't right. He didn't just want to have sex. He wanted to make love to Parker. Sure, he also wanted crazy-flexible-thief-sex in lots of different rooms and on lots of different surfaces, but even more, he wanted Parker loose and warm and wearing nothing but skin in his bed with a whole night to savor her.

And there it was, he realized. Eliot looked again at Parker's door, before turning his eyes back to the ceiling. He wanted a relationship. Something he'd actively avoided for years, something that the last time he did it, left scars on him that he'd thought would never heal. Seems they had, however, because here he was, wondering how to get a crazy blonde to commit.

Eliot caught movement out of the corner of his eyes, and turned his head to see Parker standing in the dark doorway, looking sleepy and confused. "Eliot?" she asked, voice husky and rough with the remnants of sleep. "What happened?"

He held out a hand and beckoned with it, watching her movement across the room with a careful eye. Her normal silent grace was back, her face was sleepy but aware… he caught her hand with his and tugged, pulling her down into his lap and catching her chin with his free hand. He studied her eyes. Normal again.

Parker squirmed a little on his lap, tucking her legs up and curling against him. Eliot dropped his hand from her chin and wrapped both arms around her, tucking her head against his shoulder. He felt a long breath leave him as she settled down. Better. Much better.

"I don't remember leaving the bar," Parker said. "Why not?"

Eliot stroked his hand absently over her back, enjoying the feel of her against him. "Bartender was paid to dose your drink," he said quietly. "Darrien had him do it."

He felt Parker tense, and then relax. "I thought so," she muttered. Then, "Roofies?"

Eliot cocked his head and looked down at her. "Yeah," he said. "How'd you know?"

Parker gave a little shrug, not looking at him. "I've encountered them before," she said. And didn't say anything else. Eliot felt his arms tighten involuntarily. Dammit. He'd known Parker had a rough past, but… he breathed in slowly. Deliberately. He had her now, and he'd kept her safe. Mostly.

"You stopped him," Parker said, cheek pressed against him. He felt one hand stroke his chest, right over his heart. Then, "Did you kill him?"

Eliot shook his head. Parker was quiet. "I bet he wishes you had," she said and Eliot was surprised into a quick rumble of laughter. For all they sometimes treated Parker like a five year old, she was a damn smart woman. She'd seen and done a lot, amazing and terrible and life-changing things. He'd do well to remember that in the future.

Parker yawned. "Are we staying here or going back to the hotel?" she asked, fingers still stroking over his heart. Eliot brought a hand up to cover hers, lacing those long, slender digits with his own. "I want to go back to the hotel," she said.

Eliot couldn't help himself. He lifted their joined hands and pressed his lips to her fingers. "Then we'll go back to the hotel," he told her softly. Parker tipped her head up to look at him, and smiled. She didn't have to stretch far, he met her halfway for a long, slow, tender kiss. She was still smiling when he finally drew back. "Come on," he said in a low growl.

They were halfway out the door when Eliot looked back and saw Nate sitting at the top of the staircase. How long he'd been there, Eliot didn't know. Nate met his gaze in the dark and nodded, and Eliot nodded back before following Parker out to the car.

* * *

They were quiet on the drive back to the hotel, Parker curled into the passenger seat, still loosely holding Eliot's hand. Eliot would periodically glance at her to find her eyes, gleaming and half-closed in the dark, on him. He'd feel unnerved by her watching him, except… he wasn't. He'd sat and watched her while she'd slept for a while as well. Some part of him understood wanting to keep your eyes on a person who mattered.

When they got to the hotel, Parker rather reluctantly let him go when he parked the car. As soon as the engine was off, she was climbing out and was waiting for him. She reached for his hand again as they started inside, but he wrapped an arm around her shoulders instead, pulling her into his side. He felt Parker give a little sigh, and her arm slipped around his waist, fingers sliding under the hem of his shirt to rest against the bare skin at his waist. Eliot pressed a kiss to the side of her head as they stood in the elevator and watched the numbers climb.

Then they were standing at his room, and Parker's fingers were sliding his keycard out. Eliot let her unlock the door and they stepped into the dark room. Eliot's eyes slid around the room, a little hyperaware after the evening they'd had, before relaxing.

Parker turned into him and slid both arms around his waist, pressing her face into his chest. Eliot hugged her against him. "Eliot?" her muffled voice said softly.

"Yeah, darlin'," he answered.

"Can we do it differently again?" she asked. He felt his chest warm and swell and his throat tightened. Yeah. He was keeping this woman, somehow.

"Always," he said softly, leaning his head down to nudge her nose with his. Their lips met in a slow, tender kiss. He took his time, tasted and savored her, here, safe and mostly whole. Parker slid her fingers up until they were touching his face, then stroking lightly through his hair.

Somehow, still kissing, they ended up on the bed. Eliot could have kept kissing Parker forever. He just didn't have the urge to rush. But her fingers were wandering, ever so gently tracing over his face and ears, his neck and shoulders. They slipped down his chest and slid under the hem of his t-shirt to lay against his sides.

Then those clever fingers were pressing lightly against him, and Eliot let himself be guided down onto the bed as he lay back and Parker leaned over him. Their lips parted, and Parker sat back on her heels. Eliot watched her, curious what she would do next. Parker reached down, and pulled her shirt over her head, wincing a little as her ribs must have twinged. Then she was shimmying out of her pants, and all that pale skin gleamed in the night.

Then Parker leaned over him and kissed him again. Slow, warm, deep… these kisses were addictive. Eliot meant it when he'd thought he could have kissed her forever. Lips and tongues tangling and tasting.

Her fingers were sliding again, slipping his shirt off, unfastening his jeans and skimming them off his hips and down his legs and off. Then they were both naked in the dark, and Parker was sitting back on her heels again.

Eliot felt the glance of her eyes sliding over his skin as surely as he had her fingers. He was a fairly confident man, not really a vain one, but this might be the first time he'd been truly glad for the physical demands of his job. Because Parker's eyes and face were watching him, and if his body was putting that look on her face… So worth it.

Parker reached out again, and started tracing paths over his skin: his feet, his ankles. She caressed the length of his calves, stroked his knees. She brushed over his thighs and up to his hips, avoiding for the moment his groin. He had a full erection, hard and ready for attention, but Parker was concentrating on the rest of him right now.

Her nimble fingers moved on to his lower belly, tracing and dipping into the ridges of muscle there and making them contract. They slid up his stomach and chest, stroking his pectorals and collarbone, then sliding out over his shoulders. She ran her hands down his arms and picked up one hand in her own. She spread his fingers and traced his palm, seemingly fascinated by the breadth of his hand. Each little nick and scar was found and stroked before his hand was laid down and the whole thing repeated with the other.

Then she slipped those hands up his arms again and traced very very lightly over his neck. She cupped his jaw in her palms, stroked his ears. Slid her index finger down his nose and brushed it over his lips. Eliot's eyes slid closed despite himself, and he felt those clever fingers sliding up his cheeks and forehead into his hair. She let his hair sift through her fingers, nails lightly scraping against his scalp. If he hadn't been so aroused by her whole careful surveillance, Eliot could have fallen asleep. It was soothing and erotic at once.

Then he felt her lean down and her lips press into his, and they shared another deep, drugging kiss. Eliot gently reached up and wrapped his arms around her, guiding her down onto the bed next to him. Then it was his turn.

Eliot's eyes could barely see the shadows of the bruises Darrien had put on her, but he knew they were there. He raised himself up on one elbow and gave her the same kind of long, slow surveillance that Parker had give him. Next time, he'd be quicker. Faster. He'd keep her from getting those marks, or at least, not as many.

He let his fingers follow the same path Parker had, curling his hands around her ankles and cupping her breasts in his rough palms. Soft, she was so soft all over. Soft skin over smooth, hard muscles. He'd always chased stereotypically womanly women, but somehow the strength and subtlety of Parker's body fascinated and aroused him far more than any of those other women had. Maybe it was his familiarity with it; he'd watched her use that fabulous body for years, twisting and contorting and doing amazing things on con after con.

She was shifting beneath his hands, and he could see the faintest flush under the surface of that pale skin. Parker reached for him, long fingers tugging gently on his hips and he let her pull him to her, leaning down to kiss her again. He felt her sigh into his mouth as their bodies slipped slowly together. Her leg wrapped around his hip, pressing him closer and deeper. Eliot kept his weight up on his elbows, mindful of Parker's ribs.

Parker broke the kiss and looked up at him. "Eliot," she whispered.

He nuzzled her nose with his and gently flexed his hips. In and out, a slow, gentle slide. "Yeah, sweetheart?" he answered, voice low and rough. He only had so many working brain cells left.

Her fingers, god, how he loved those fingers, were stroking his biceps and curling around his shoulders. "Why is this different?" she asked, so very softly. "Is it because it's you?"

Eliot had to kiss her again, and couldn't stop himself from moving again. Stroking, once, twice. He broke the kiss and pressed his forehead to hers. Her fingers wound into his hair. "Maybe it's because it's you," he managed.

Parker's blue eyes were dark, dark, dark as they stared into his. And then she was brushing his lips with hers again. "Maybe because it's us," she said.

* * *

Happy weekend, everyone! Hope this sends you off with a smile on your face!


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

In hindsight, the nightmare shouldn't have been a surprise. It was more surprising that he _hadn't_ had one recently, given everything that had been going on in his life.

Groggy. Pain. His head was pounding, the blood dripping slowly down his cheek to drop onto the floor. Splat. Splat. Splat.

_They'd left, thinking he was done for the day. Couldn't take anymore, needed time to gather his strength for another round. Their mistake. Sure, he was down, but he'd get back up. No one was keeping him locked up. He'd get out. _

_He lay on the floor, in a sprawled heap that was so tempting, so unthreatening. So easy for a guard to see and decide to have a little fun with. And even with the broken bones, the bruises, the dislocated shoulder, it was so easy to snap a neck. Steal a gun. Rip another man's clothes for quick bandages. _

_Long tunnels, dark corridors, silence… all until it wasn't. Shouts and gunfire and dammit hand-to-hand when he only had one hand. He'd kill them, kill them all…_

The hand on his shoulder had him roaring awake, body taking over before his mind could. But the person attacking him was fast and nimble and slipped from his grasp before he could get his hands around their neck and squeeze.

Eliot came to himself, breathing heavily. The bedding was tossed about, he was alone on the bed, and Parker was peeking at him from the floor. "Eliot," she said. In a not so quiet voice. "Eliot!"

He realized that his hands were still tensed and reaching for, dear god, for her. "Fuck," fell out of his mouth, and he drew his hands back. Rubbed his face with them as they trembled.

"Eliot," she said again, softer now, rising from the floor and slipping up onto the bed. She reached out toward him and he flinched. Her fingers kept coming, soft on his fists. "Nightmare."

"Yeah," he bit out, and pulled away. He got up and walked away from her, moving toward the window. Jesus. He'd been reaching for Parker.

"It's ok, Eliot," Parker said behind him. Still on the bed, thank god. He gripped the window frame and stared out at the night. Early morning. Whatever. "I'm ok."

The coiled tension inside him was too much. "I could've hurt you, Parker," Eliot bit out. "I was going to hurt you. I _wanted_ to hurt you."

He tensed and held very still as slim arms slipped around his waist. Skin to skin, soft to hard. He couldn't relax into it, couldn't risk that. "You didn't hurt me," she said. "I'm too fast and tricky for that."

"Dammit!" Eliot swung around and grabbed her shoulders in his hands, glaring down at those blue eyes. Dark and wide in the night. "I was going to _hurt_ you, Parker! I was going to wrap my hands around your throat and snap your neck!" He pushed her back, away from him. "We can't do this. I can't risk it. _I can't hurt you._"

Parker stood where he'd put her and surveyed him quietly. Eliot was very aware of the night, the still-pounding of his heart, the tightness of his muscles. If he were home, alone, he'd be beating the shit out of a heavy bag. Getting everything back under control before he saw any of the team.

"Eliot," she broke into his thoughts, "Do you think that I don't have nightmares too?" Eliot jerked his eyes up to hers.

"What?" she was confusing him. Did she miss the part where he was trying to kill her in his sleep?

Parker stayed right where she was but cocked her head, eyes boring into him. "I have nightmares. Every night," she said bluntly. "I don't sleep at the offices. I sleep at home, behind my own security system where it's safe. Or," she said and her voice softened. "I sleep if you're there. Because you make me safe."

Something cracked in him, and Eliot ran his hands over his face again. She was killing him. One little piece at a time.

"Eliot, I usually wake up screaming or with a knife in my hand," Parker said. "Unless you're around, because you don't need a knife and you probably wouldn't let me sleep with one anyway." She folded her arms, and he couldn't miss the gleam of light off her bare breasts as she did. "You won't hurt me," she said. "I'm too fast and tricky. And next time you have a nightmare, I'll hit you with a pillow instead of shake you."

He couldn't help it, a laugh slipped out of him. Trust Parker to come up with a solution that involved him getting a face full of feathers. "Parker," he took a deep breath. "I'll never be able to handle it if I hurt you," he said. He had to give it one last try. "I'm supposed to keep you safe. I _want_ to keep you safe. I just don't know if I can keep you safe from _me_."

Parker smiled, that flashing quicksilver smile. "Silly Eliot," she said. "I'm always safe with you." She gave him a questioning look. "I could wake you up with a shoe, if you want."

Eliot groaned, but somehow was smiling. Just a little. "No, no shoes," he ordered gruffly. Crap. How did she do this, make his fears fall by the wayside? He was still afraid he would hurt her someday without meaning to.

"Eliot," Parker was suddenly serious. "Trust me."

And there it was. He stared through the darkness separating them, stared into her eyes. "I do," he finally said. "Yeah. I do." Eliot took a step toward her and reached out, pulling her into his arms. Oddly enough, his tight muscles all unwound as her skin pressed against his. "Yeah, I trust you," he said into her hair. He tightened his arms. "Don't let me hurt you, Parker," he whispered.

She pressed a butterfly light kiss against his bare chest. "You won't," she promised him. "I'll hit you with a shoe first."

* * *

He was too wound to go back to sleep, and Parker was awake anyway, so a trip to the gym was in order. Parker was limited in what she was allowed to do because of the ribs, so a lot of her time was spent sitting on a countertop, one leg curled beneath her and the other swinging freely while Eliot beat the shit out of a heavy bag. Parker had somehow procured a couple of her locks and was idly locking and unlocking them while she watched him.

Eliot tried not to be distracted by her eyes on him, stripped down to the waist as he pummeled away his fear and tension. It was kind of hard, he wasn't used to having someone watch, and Parker's gaze was a little too greedy and hot for him to ignore. If he wasn't all tangled up inside over the nightmare and Parker's reaction to it, he'd have dragged her back upstairs and had a different kind of workout. As it was, he didn't quite trust himself yet.

It took a little while, but he finally got to a place where he felt better. Looser. Less out-of-control. Parker apparently saw it in him before he realized, because she hopped off the counter and skipped, yes, skipped over to him. She ducked and popped up in front of him, between him and the bag, somehow missing the fist that was still moving. Jesus, she _was _fast and tricky. And then she was smashing her lips to his and her arms around his neck and Christ, it felt good. So damn good. Eliot kissed her back, a hard, almost bruising kiss before she broke it off.

She wrinkled her nose at him. "You stink," she told him and grinned. "Shower time!" And Eliot felt a laugh slip out again as she danced away toward the elevators. He grabbed his discarded shirt and pulled it on as he followed her. Yeah. Trust Parker.

* * *

Eliot called Nate after their second workout of the morning, a much wetter one than the first.

"How's Parker?" was the first thing out of the mastermind's mouth.

"She's fine," Eliot answered sitting in the desk chair and stretching out his legs. Currently, Parker was in her room, getting clean clothes. "Drugs are out of her system, ribs don't seem to be troubling her too much."

"Good," Nate said. "We need the two of you to plant those documents on Tiny Tim today, and then see what you can find in Pitts' place. We need something to give to the cops linking him to Tiny Tim."

"What about the Columbian?" Eliot asked, propping his feet up on the edge of the bed.

"Hardison's on that," Nate said. "Looks like he's just a hired gun, may not even really be tied to Pitts' scheme at all. Hardison thinks he's just passing through."

Eliot rolled his head on his neck, feeling the muscles loose and relaxed. Shower sex would do that for you. "Maybe I should have a chat with him, tell him to move on," he said.

"Let's avoid killing anyone, shall we?" Nate's voice was mild.

"I said chat," Eliot pointed out, looking up as the door clicked open and Parker came slipping in. He raised an eyebrow at her, considering that she was carrying a duffle bag. She tossed it on the bed and then tossed herself after it, rolling a little as she landed. He had to admire her agility, as she avoided knocking her ribs.

"I heard you," Nate was going on. "Look, stop by and get the documents for Tiny Tim, and then check out Pitts. We'll leave the Columbian be for now."

"Fine," Eliot grumbled, and Parker looked at him questioningly. He held up the one-moment finger to her and she huffed out a sigh before flopping backward onto her back. "We'll be out there in a half-hour."

He shut the phone with a snap. "Nate?" Parker asked from her position on the bed.

"Yeah," Eliot said. He surveyed her sprawled out on the bed. "What's with the bag?" he asked.

Parker sat up with a bounce. "I was tired of having to go get clothes," she said. "So I brought them all here." That made something warm in Eliot. "And I wanted more shoes to throw at you." And that made him laugh, even if it was a little grim. Trust Parker.

"Ok, darlin'," he said and stood up, holding out a hand for her. She ignored it, bouncing up on her own before slipping next to him. Eliot reached out and took her hand in his anyway, lacing his fingers with hers. "Come on," he said, and started for the door. "We need to hit Nate's, and I need to tell you about the Columbian."

"So there ARE Columbians," Parker said triumphantly as they stepped out into the hallway. She swung their arms between them. "Hah! I win!"

Eliot laughed and tightened his fingers, feeling about as light as he had all morning. Parker had a way of doing that to him. "Yeah, you win," he said.

* * *

Ok. Enough with the heavy emotional stuff, I need something fun! Or sexy. Or maybe some nice Eliot-beating-the-crap-out-of-someone. Let's see if these characters will cooperate…


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

Tiny Tim was a slob. Eliot had been in some nasty places in his life, and the trailer the big bruiser was staying in was really disgusting. It ranked right up there with that slum in Istanbul, but not quite as bad as the place he'd had to hide in back in Morocco… Parker was even grossed out.

"Eww, eww, eww," she kept saying. She was walking around on her toes, trying to keep from touching anything. "We should just burn the place. Can we burn it, Eliot?"

"No, no burning, Parker," Nate's voice in his ear said. "We need the cops to FIND the documents."

"I dunno if anyone's going to find _anything_ in here, Nate," Eliot said dubiously, looking around at the half eaten plates and cartons of food, the laundry strewn about, the random trash tipped and spread over the floor, the beer cans ankle deep in the corner… "This dude is seriously gross."

"Eww, eww, eww…" Parker was NOT happy.

"Look, guys, just plant the stuff and get out." Nate was apparently getting tired of their comments.

Parker looked over her shoulder at him, balancing on her toes as she did. "I'm not touching anything," she declared. "You do it."

Eliot rolled his eyes. "Of course, I have to do it," he grumbled. "Gross stuff, the guy always has to do it."

"Sophie said guys are supposed to take out the trash, kill bugs and open jars," Parker informed him. "I think that pretty much covers everything in the place."

Eliot snorted. "Sophie, stop teaching Parker stuff, will you?" he said aloud, gingerly easing a drawer in the 'kitchen' open. Dear god, what was IN there? He shoved the envelope of incriminating documents in and shut it. "I hope nothing eats those," he muttered.

"Parker's absolutely right," Sophie said, sounding smug in his head. "Ladies are not supposed to have to deal with the more disgusting aspects of life."

Eliot checked outside before opening the door and motioning Parker out. "That's so not fair," he said.

Parker did some sort of weird wiggle-shaking thing once she was out. "Eww, eww, eww, I can still feel all the grossness," she complained. She squirmed and kind of shuddered before dashing for the car. "Come _on_, Eliot, let's get out of here before we get totally contaminated," she called.

Eliot rolled his eyes and headed after her. He wasn't going to win this one, was he?

* * *

Gerald Pitts' place wasn't as convenient for them to case. While Tiny Tim had been staying in a trailer outside of town, away from any annoying prying eyes, Pitts had taken an apartment in town. Well, ok, it wasn't really town, but there were enough people around that you couldn't just walk in. And there _weren't_ enough people to blend in and get lost in a crowd. That meant they had to figure out an alternative.

Fortunately, Eliot and Parker were professionals. And experts at alternatives. Of course, it would have been better if they could agree on that that alternative should be, but that was just a little detail.

"I can too go over the roof," Parker was insisting. "No one will see me."

"But they'll see ME," Eliot contradicted. "And I am not going over the roof!"

"So what's your idea?" Parker groused, crossing her arms and glaring. She was cute when she did that, Eliot thought, with a small grin.

"Nate, did we bring any uniforms with us?" Eliot asked.

"No," Nate said.

Well, that shot down Eliot's grand plan. Until Parker got that look in her eye, and started grinning maniacally. Which, of course, made Eliot very nervous. He might be feeling something… special… for the thief, but that didn't change the fact that she was still crazy. He just happened to feel that it was a good kind of crazy. Mostly.

"Let's burn it down," she said.

"Wait, what?" Eliot said. "No, no burning! We didn't burn the trailer, we're not burning down a town."

"Wait, Eliot," Nate's voice said thoughtfully. Eliot groaned. He was going to let Parker burn something.

"A smaller fire, at one of the abandoned buildings down the street will draw people's attention and give you a window of time to search the place," the mastermind went on. "Hardison?"

There was that period of silence, as Nate was clearly listening to Hardison. "Ok, Hardison says that about four blocks down, there's a former barbershop that's been in foreclosure for a couple of years."

Eliot peered down the street, through the car windshield. "Yeah, I think I see it," he said. "It's pretty run-down."

"Perfect," Nate said. "Slip in and start something burning, enough to draw attention long enough for you and Parker to check out Pitts place without being seen."

Parker was grinning just a little too much for his taste. "Great, just great," Eliot muttered, eyeing her warily. "Look, darlin', I'M going to start any fires, got it? You'd just torch the whole damn thing."

"Maybe," Parker said, still grinning. "But we're still using _my_ idea."

Eliot resisted the urge to smack himself in the face. This was not going to go well. He could just see it. Parker leaned over and planted a smacking kiss on his lips. "Don't pout," she smirked. "Let's go burn down a building."

"I'm not pouting," Eliot grumbled, starting the car and pulling away. He'd have to park it somewhere else for this to work. "Men don't pout. We brood."

"Sure, whatever you say," Parker said cheerily. She slid a sideways glance at him and smirked bigger. "Pouter."

Eliot growled at her, but he couldn't keep the corners of his mouth from twitching. Considering the fact that he was sleeping with Parker, he guessed he could at least admit that he really got a kick out of working with her. The girl was crazy, and it suited him to a tee. Even when her kinda crazy made him nuts, it still made him smile, even if it was after the fact.

He parked the car several blocks away, in the parking lot of the local library. There were enough cars there that no one would notice their nondescript Camry mixed in. He heaved a sigh. "Ok, let's go start a fire," he said.

"Oh, fun," Parker said, bouncing out of the car. She rolled back and forth on her toes, waiting for Eliot to round the car next to her. She caught his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together. It sent that familiar warm feeling through Eliot. They started down the street, looking for all the world like a couple out for a stroll.

"Hey, Sophie," Parker asked thoughtfully.

"Yes, Parker," the grifter responded, a bit absently. Eliot did not want to know what she was doing. Last he knew, Sophie was at the house with Nate and Hardison. There were way too many possibilities there.

"Does this count as a date?" Parker asked. And Eliot almost swallowed his tongue.

"What?" he exclaimed, looking down at Parker.

"What?" Sophie and Nate's voice both reverberated in their ears.

"Well, we're holding hands and going to do something fun together," Parker said, swinging their linked fingers a little, and causing Eliot to tighten his a little more. "Doesn't that make a date?"

Eliot opened and closed his mouth. Well…

"Technically you could be right, Parker," Sophie's voice came, "but usually dates are not part of a con or with your team listening in."

Eliot snorted. "Yeah," he said. "No WAY I'm taking all of you with us when we go on a date."

"So we're going to go on a date?" Parker asked, looking up at him through her lashes.

Eliot gaped for a second, then glared. "Sophie! What the _hell_ have you been telling Parker?"

"Me?" Sophie said innocently. He could practically hear her batting her lashes. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Parker cocked her head at him, looking straight up at him now. He really preferred that to her little try-to-be-Sophie-coy attempt. "Don't you want to date me?" she asked him, sounding a bit unsure now. "I thought that's what you did when you slept with someone you cared about."

Aaaand there went his soft heart. Dammit. Eliot pulled Parker to a stop and leaned down to kiss her firmly, not really giving a damn that they were right in the middle of the sidewalk. "Yeah, darlin'," he told her, a little gruffly. "I'm dating you. But," he added hastily for the benefit of their listeners. "THIS is not a date. This is work. We'll go on a date when we go back home."

Parker smiled, that quicksilver grin that lit up her eyes. "Ok," she said, and tugged him on. "Now come on, we've got a building to burn."

* * *

Well, learn something new every day. I now know how to spell "Colombian". :-) And while I'm enjoying all this plot, I really think we need some fun smut. Some really fun smut. Hmm…


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Eliot slipped back out the back door of the barbershop and took Parker's hand again. "Come on," he muttered, casting wary eyes around. The back of the shop was well screened from curious passersbys, but he didn't want to take any chances.

Parker fell into step beside him easily. "So now we wait?" she said.

"Yeah," Eliot said, as they slipped back onto the sidewalk and started toward Main Street. "I laid a long fuse to give us a little time. Right now, we're just a nice couple on a stroll, checking out the shops."

"Ooo, a bakery!" Parker exclaimed, and pointed. She tugged on his hand. "I'm hungry!"

Eliot snorted. "When aren't you?" he said and let himself be towed toward the little shop. What the hell. It made for good cover. No one would think that the nice young couple eating a donut would have started the fire down the street. At least the place looked clean, after all, he had standards.

Parker dropped his hand once they got inside and practically plastered herself against the glass case. Eliot sniffed the air, appreciating the scent of yeast and spice and sugar. He stepped up behind Parker. "What'll it be, darlin'?" he asked affectionately, sliding a hand to the nape of her neck.

Parker sighed. "So many choices…." She bit her lip. "Donut," she finally said. "Everything else, you make and theirs won't be as good as yours. So a donut."

Eliot was absurdly pleased that she had such confidence in his cooking, and grinned over the counter at the young woman who was waiting to take their order. "Two," he told her. He squeezed Parker's neck gently. "You want jelly?"

A few minutes later, they were outside, sitting on a bench and Parker was licking strawberry jelly off one of those long slender fingers. Eliot watched her, ridiculously turned on by her tongue wrapping around her index finger and sucking it clean… He shifted a little, uncomfortable, and took a bite of his own donut. As he did, he caught the gleam in Parker's eyes and narrowed his own in response. Sneaky little thief, she knew exactly what she was doing.

Well then, he thought with a smirk, turn about was fair play. He reached over and caught her hand before she could lick another blob off. Slowly he pulled her hand up to his mouth and licked the jelly himself. He was slow, and thorough, and kept his eyes on hers the whole time. And by the time he was done, Parker was pink and breathing just a little unsteadily.

"You're bad," she said, pulling her now clean fingers back, but letting them drag against his hand.

Eliot smirked again. "You know it," he told her, popping the last bite of his own donut in his mouth.

"Hardison says that you guys are getting too gooey and are really gross," Nate's voice came dryly in their ears. "I say you better still be focused on the job."

"Not to worry, Nate," Eliot murmured discreetly. "We got this."

Parker's eyes shifted to over his shoulder. "Look, smoke!" She didn't bother to be quiet, other people were already looking the same direction. A couple people had cell phones out, talking and looking down a few blocks to where the abandoned barbershop was.

Eliot stood up, and held out his hand to Parker. She looked at him, a little confused, but took his hand anyway as she stood up. "Come on," he said, and they started strolling slowly toward Pitts' building.

"Wow, there really is a lot of smoke," Parker commented, glancing back over her shoulder. She leaned closer. "I thought you weren't going to burn it down?"

"I didn't," Eliot muttered back. "But _something_ has to burn so the fire department comes and keeps everyone's attention." They crossed the street, and he tugged her to a stop in front of the building next to Pitts'. He turned and looked down the street. Huh. Maybe he had done a little _too_ good of a job. Dammit. If the whole place went up, Parker would never let him hear the end of it, he just knew it. He'd been the one to say that they weren't going to torch the entire place, after all.

"We're clear," Parker voice murmured softly, and they slipped back around the side of the building. Pitts' place was on the second floor of a storefront, with stairs around the back. Eliot kept a sharp eye open as he motioned Parker on. They were quick up the steps, and Parker had them into the apartment almost laughably easily. An ordinary door lock? Hah. You might as well have left it wide open.

Eliot shut the door softly behind him. "Let's make this quick," he ordered softly. "I don't know how much time we have." Parker was already rifling through the kitchen. He headed for the single bedroom. At least the guy wasn't the kind of slob that Tiny Tim was. Messy, sure. Living in a trash pile, no.

Eliot quickly and systematically searched the place, not finding much. Parker had moved into the living room by the time he finished, and was turning couch cushions. Eliot started on the pile of mail and other paper crap on the coffee table.

"Here," Parker said, holding up a small book. Eliot leaned over to look. Numbers, figures, names. Dates. Eliot nodded, and Parker started snapping pictures of each page with her cell while he finished the stack of mail. Nothing jumped out there, and Eliot craned his neck to see out the window, checking the street.

"Hurry up, Parker," he growled, not liking how long they were taking.

"Don't get your panties in a wad," Parker shot back, clicking away. "I'm almost done."

Eliot snorted. "You know for a fact what kind of underwear I've got on," he couldn't resist. Parker rolled her eyes.

"Done," she said, putting the book back down between the cushions where she'd found it. "Let's go."

Together they slipped out of the apartment and down the stairs, back to the front of the building and then out onto the street. Eliot grabbed Parker's hand again as they strolled slowly back up the street toward the fire and the small crowd.

"Nate, I'm sending Hardison the pictures of the book," Parker was saying softly. Eliot was scanning the people around them discretely. His eye caught on the back of a head. His eyes narrowed.

He nudged Parker. "Take a picture of the crowd to my left," he said softly. "Guy in the brown shirt."

Parker turned her phone as if she was taking pictures of him and clicked away. "I see him," she said softly. "Who is he?"

"Looks like our Colombian friend," Eliot murmured, sliding an arm around her shoulders and keeping his face turned away. "No, don't stare!"

"I'm not," Parker hissed back. "I'm just taking his picture!" He was relieved when she pulled the phone back down and sent the info to Hardison. After all, the guy had shot them.

"Ok, guys, come on back and we'll go over what you found," Nate said. "Hardison says he thinks he's got something already." There was a heaving sigh. "And that he is the master of all he surveys and works magic." There was a mutter, "We've really got to get your own earbud back."

Eliot grinned and kept his arm around Parker's shoulders as they strolled down the street, past where the fire department was winding up hoses, and around the corner to the car. "We'll be there," he said. "Might stop off first, but we'll be there."

"Oh, we didn't need to know that," Sophie's voice came. Eliot smirked.

* * *

Parker was eyeing him curiously as they drove up the winding road. "So are you going to tell me where we're going?" she asked for only the ten thousandth time. "Nate wanted to work the con."

Eliot heaved another sigh. "Hardison's still working on that book. They don't need us for a while. So leave your com off for a while and let's just… relax."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Is this a date?" she asked suspiciously.

Eliot snorted. "Not exactly." Nope. What he had in mind was a little more… basic than that. So what if he was constantly turned on by the woman next to him. Frankly, he thought it was forgivable.

She was watching him, and he slid a look over at her. A hot, hungry look. Her eyes widened a little and then she grinned back at him. A predatory grin of her own that made his jeans tighten. "Ohh…" she said, grinning. She settled back in her seat. "Ok." One of her hands slipped over to lay against his thigh and he tensed.

"Not until I'm done driving, Parker," he ordered gruffly. She just smirked and stroked his thigh with her fingers. Well, crap. She was not helping.

Eliot saw the turn he was looking for and pulled off the main road and onto the dirt road with relief. Almost there. "So where are we going, then?" Parker asked, fingers still stroking. And dammit, they were starting to wander.

Eliot had to clear his throat as those clever, clever fingers danced lightly over the bulge in his jeans. "Spot up here that's supposed to be nice," he growled.

"Hmm," she hummed. "I hope it's private."

Eliot peered through the trees, praying that he was right and they were there. Yes. Thank god. "Here," he said, and pulled the car to park on the side of the road.

Parker looked around and frowned. "Awful lot of trees out here, Eliot," she said dubiously. "Aren't there animals in the trees?"

Eliot reached over, slid his fingers behind her head and pulled her into a hard kiss. "Don't worry," he said and grinned when they broke apart. "I'll protect you."

Parker made a face at him, but also followed him as he got out of the car. "This better be some spot," she muttered as he reached into the back seat and grabbed the blanket he'd tossed in earlier.

"Come on, darlin'," he said, still smiling.

It was a short hike, not a very hard one, and Parker was way too fit, even with the sore ribs for it to be any trouble. And then they were breaking through the trees, and Eliot looked at the scene with satisfaction. Yeah. Just what he'd been hoping for.

The trees parted just enough to allow a stream to tumble down over a couple of rocky outcroppings and then over the edge of the hill cliff, disappearing into the valley below. Before them was spread the whole valley, town, highway, hills stretching off into the distance. The sun shone brightly through the green of the leaves, there were birds chirping up above and Eliot caught sight of some buzzards circling a ways off.

Parker was studying the view. "Wow," she said, some fascination in her voice. She was up at the edge of the cliff before he could blink. "This would be awesome to rappel down."

Eliot tamped down the urge to call her crazy, and instead rolled his eyes, turning to unfold the blanket with a snap. "Only you," he said instead. He dropped down to sit, sprawled out on the blanket, under the edge of the trees.

Parker turned around to say something to him, but stopped and just looked at him as he leaned back on his elbows. She smiled again, that hungry smile that got his blood pumping. "So," she said, strolling slowly toward him. She reached down and grasped the hem of her shirt. "You brought me out here to have sex, huh?"

Eliot watched her avidly as she drew the shirt up and over her head. God, he loved that she didn't wear bras. "Private, away from everyone else," he managed. His brain was rapidly filing up with how her skin glowed in the sun. "Thought we'd get out of the hotel.

Her hands were on her pants now, her shoes toed off. "That's… hot," Parker decided aloud, hands slipping down her hips, sliding the pants off. And then dammit, she was naked in the sun, with that gorgeous valley behind her and he'd kill for a picture of this. It was art, it was porn, it was pretty much the greatest thing he'd ever seen.

She stopped at the edge of the blanked and looked down at him. "Aren't you a little overdressed?" she asked, and cocked one hip, putting a hand on it.

Eliot blinked, still kind of stuck on how her hair shone in the sun, and started to strip without thinking. Hell yes. Naked would be good. She was grinning as his jeans joined hers on the ground, and then he reached up and tugged her down to land in his lap.

"Christ, you're beautiful," he growled at her before sealing their mouths together. Their tongues tangled, her taste was filling his senses again. Her hands slipped over his chest and tugged at his hair, and he broke the kiss.

Parker was giving him a confused look. "You can stop saying that, you know," she told him. "I'm already having sex with you." Eliot blinked. Really? She was serious, he realized.

He rolled her underneath him and kissed her again before lifting his head. "Parker," he said and waited. Waited until she was paying really close attention to him. "You are beautiful. So beautiful it takes my breath away. You will always be beautiful, even if I'm not having sex with you."

She stared, looking up at him, that confused look lingering in her eyes. "Are you going to stop having sex with me?" she asked. And there was a little note of vulnerability in her voice that tangled him all up inside.

"Not if I can ever help it," he muttered, and kissed her again, hands unable to keep still now. He slid them over that smooth, smooth skin, tracing and stroking and cupping and teasing. "God, so beautiful," he said, mouth moving down her neck, tasting his favorite spot at her neck, nipping at her collarbone. "So, so beautiful…" His lips closed over her nipple, and he tugged, drawing a moan from her. Her fingers clutched at his shoulders, before slipping down to tease at his own chest. He switched breasts, cupping the now lonely one in his hand while he tasted the other.

And then he was working down her belly, loving how the muscles jumped and shivered under his lips, pushing her legs apart so he could lie between them. He spread her thighs and tasted her, tongue and lips work and pulling a shudder from that lithe body.

Parker moaned his name, and Eliot set about making her fall apart. He tasted, teased and stroked. His fingers slid up her thighs and into her scalding wet heat, his fingers drenched as they pumped in and out. She was twisting in his hands now, little mewling pants escaping and dammit, she was the sexiest, most beautiful thing he'd ever seen or heard. Right until she shattered in his hands, body spasming around his fingers, and _that_ because the most beautiful thing ever.

She was still gasping and shuddering with her orgasm as he pulled himself back up her body, flipping them and pulling her on top. Parker choked a little and caught herself on his chest as he drove his body up into hers. Eliot groaned as she clenched hot and tight around him, her nails digging into his chest, the blanket rough under his back. Parker started to move, hips rolling, face tipped up to the dappled sunlight and Eliot couldn't hold still. God, so beautiful…

They were rocking together, sounds and prayers and names ripped from each other, until finally Eliot couldn't take it anymore and gasped her name one last time before the sun exploded behind his eyes.

Parker slumped against his chest, sun-warmed and sweaty and so beautiful. Eliot wrapped his arms around her and just breathed.

* * *

Yay, smut! I was really feeling the need… Of course, we'll have to get back to plot next chapter, but a little romp outside seemed appropriate. Enjoy!


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

Something was different about Parker, Eliot thought, not for the first time since they'd left the cliff. There was the faintest little furrow between those two pretty eyebrows, and a hint of something he couldn't place in her eyes. Frankly, if he hadn't been so tuned into her, he wasn't sure he would have caught it. Wasn't sure Sophie had noticed, or Nate… He knew Hardison hadn't. But Parker was flitting around, acting like her normal self pre-briefing.

Nate came strolling back into the living room, what looked like a freshly filled glass of something amber colored in hand. "Right, Hardison, let's run this down," the mastermind said.

Parker hopped the back of the sofa, those slender legs winding around themselves as she curled into the corner of the couch. Eliot let himself study her a moment longer before pulling his eyes away and focusing on the two screens in front of him.

"Right, so I set up the surveillance on the rally car last night, to see if Tiny Tim was going to take the bait," Hardison said, clicking away. "You guys got one more special stage here before the rally moves on, so it's gotta be soon, if at all. And since he tried to take a tire iron to Eliot, kinda figured it might be last night."

Eliot grunted. He was kind of curious how long Tiny Tim had been out for, just for professional reasons, after all. Wasn't often he got to take down someone that size.

"So here are the cameras from the hotel parking lot," Hardison kept going, images appearing onscreen. Eliot focused in on the one on the left that showed a large man moving somewhat stealthily between cars.

"That's him?" Sophie asked. "He's surprisingly light on his feet for such a large man."

Eliot snorted. "It's deceptive," he said. Parker just scowled at the screens. Tiny Tim was approaching their car.

"Aaand, here's our bad guy popping the hood and messing around with the interior," Hardison said, pulling one camera angle front and center. Eliot squinted, trying to figure what Tiny had done.

Parker growled. "He's loosening the wires connecting the turbo to the engine," she glared. "Jerk. I'm going to have to fix that now." Eliot reached over and laid a hand on her shoulder. She tipped her head to look at him. "I don't suppose you brought a screwdriver?"

He gave her a slight grin, hoping that it would clear whatever was lurking behind her eyes. Yeah, she was off, somehow. "Got a whole toolkit in the trunk of the Camry," he told her, squeezing lightly. She still scowled and looked back at the screen, but leaned a little into his hand. Eliot rubbed his thumb against the back of her neck before sitting back in his chair again.

"Right, so you two need to fix the car before tomorrow's race. Meanwhile, Hardison…" Nate gestured toward the screen with his glass.

"So now we move to our friend Gerald Pitts," Hardison said. He tapped a few keys, and the book Parker had found slid onscreen. "Parker hit the motherlode. This here is Pitts accounts book, kinda careless to leave it in the sofa cushions, but he musta not felt like anyone was onto him. We got here names, dates and money paid in and out on bets. We _also_ got payments to Tim Thompson, aka Tiny Tim. If you'll look here, you'll see that he's penciled in a payment as of yesterday in the amount of ten thousand bucks."

"Bingo," Nate said.

"Oh, but wait, I ain't done yet," Hardison said, wagging a finger at Nate. "See, there's also a line in here about one Rodriguez, and _twenty_ thousand dollars. Proof he's paying the Colombian, man." Hardison spread his hands like he was expecting applause, but Eliot was frowning instead.

"Wait, he's paying the Colombian twice as much as Tiny Tim?" Eliot asked, sitting forward and leaning his arms on his knees.

"That's what it says, man," Hardison said.

"Eliot, what are you seeing?" Sophie asked, voice concerned.

Eliot shook his head. "Means the Colombian ain't done with us yet," he said. "That kinda money means a bigger job than taking just one good shot." Shit. He _knew_ he should have gone after the guy earlier. Dammit.

Parker was quiet, but her eyes were racing over the screens. He could almost hear her brain whirring, and he wondered what was going through her head.

"But why would Pitts be so worried about you?" Sophie asked. "After all, he just had Tiny Tim take your car out of commission so you loose tomorrow, thereby making himself a whole lot of money. Why have a mercenary hound you more when the goal has apparently already been accomplished?"

"It could be insurance money," Nate speculated. "To make sure that they loose. It could be a future payment on the next stage, it could be another target."

Eliot shook his head. "Doesn't feel that way," he said. "Feels like this guy is going for us. Hardison," he asked, sitting back and trying to work his way through the instincts that were clouding him, "what have we got on this guy's background? Anything that ties into me?"

Hardison opened his mouth to say something, but Parker beat him to it. "I think he's after me," she said, tilting her head just a tad.

Eliot's back went stiff and he knew the others' heads whipped around at that. "You, Parker?" Nate asked, voice level. "Why?"

Parker was studying the screen where the picture of their shooter was. "Six years ago, Bogata," she said. "The Museum of Gold. They had a set of pre-Hispanic gold hairpins that I wanted. The job wasn't hard, but there was a security guard that got in the way at the last minute." Her fingers twitched a little. "I slipped out with the stuff, but he was pretty mad."

"Did he see you today, Parker?" Eliot asked, voice steady and even. He needed information. If he was going to keep Parker safe, and he was, he needed lots of information. "When you took his picture in town, did he see your face?"

Parker shook her head slowly. "I don't think so," she said. "But if he's been hanging around the track at all, he'll have seen me."

"I think I got the extra money thing," Hardison broke in, fingers flying the whole time. "See, near as I can tell, this guy usually goes for a lot more. He took _this _job at a discount."

"That would explain a few things," Nate said, swallowing a mouthful of his drink.

"Give me the rundown, Hardison, what's this guy's background? I need to know how good he is," Eliot said tersely. Dammit. _Dammit_. He was going to keep Parker safe.

"Gonna take me a few minutes, Eliot, mercs like this usually have their shit hidden," Hardison said, frowning.

Eliot nodded and settled back, prepared to just wait. But Parker popped up off the sofa and was out the back door before he could draw in a breath to tell her 'stay', and so instead he got up to go after her. "I got this, Sophie," he said, holding a hand up to keep the grifter in place as he headed out the back.

Parker was up a tree in the yard when he found her. Up. A. Tree. He had to figure she was missing the rooftops of the city, given how far up she'd gone. Eliot stood at the bottom and looked up at her, craning his neck. He really didn't want to climb thirty feet. "Parker," he called up. "Darlin', can you come down?"

There was rustling above him. "I'd rather stay here for a while," Parker said. Politely. Huh. That was… not normal.

"Parker, you gonna make me come up there?" Eliot called up to her again. "Cause I weigh more than you, sweetheart, and it ain't gonna be much fun for me to climb that high."

There was more rustling, a heaved sigh, and then Parker started descending. Eliot watched her, deciding she really was part spider monkey as he watched her nimbly swing, drop and slide until she was resting her back against the trunk and stretched out on a fat limb about ten feet off the ground. He heaved a sigh of his own and figured he'd meet her halfway.

"Ok, good enough," he muttered. He reached and hauled himself up, one branch at a time until he was at about the same level as Parker. Eliot wasn't as comfortable off the ground as she was, he'd rather have nice, solid earth under his feet. But he put his own back to the trunk of the tree and reached his hand out next to him to catch her fingers with his.

"So what's up with you, Parker?" he asked, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles as they sat there, legs dangling around tree limbs. "You've been off since this afternoon."

Parker was quiet, and he could almost hear her thinking. If he'd felt more stable, he would've been looking at her. As it was, he'd prefer to keep his back to the tree trunk and not fall.

"Eliot," Parker started, then stopped.

Eliot squeezed her fingers. "What is it?" he asked again, softly this time. "Tell me, darlin'." She was quiet again, so he tried fishing a little. "Is it this Colombian? 'Cause you know I've got your back, Parker, there ain't no way he's going to hurt you…"

He could feel her shaking her head. "No," she said. "He can't catch me." But there was something there, Eliot could tell. Something that was bothering her.

"Than what, Parker?" he asked.

Her fingers shifted in his, and then she was swinging lightly around and was all of a sudden straddling his branch, facing him. Their knees knocked and she leaned lightly forward, resting her hands on his thighs.

"Are you going to go after him?" Parker asked, looking down at the bark they were both straddling and seeming very interested in the patterns there.

Eliot risked his balance reaching out to grasp her chin and lift it so he could see her eyes. "Damn straight I am," he told her, "that's what I do. I keep you safe."

Parker's blue eyes were meeting his now, but they were troubled. "But you're doing it because of something that happened before. Something that I did, that you have to clean up." Eliot kept his eyes steadily on hers. "What if you get hurt because of me?"

He couldn't help it, he smiled. Just a little, just a soft one. It was just so damn _nice_ to have someone caring like that. "Then I come back and you patch me up, like I do you," he told her, rubbing his thumb over her bottom lip. A bit possessively, he had to admit. "And you know I'm gonna get banged up every now and then, Parker, I'm a hitter. Sometimes I get hit."

"Yes, but…" her voice trailed off, and she dropped her head back down to stare at the bark. She was baffling him a little. He couldn't follow where her mind had gone, what was still bothering her.

"But what?" he prompted. He put his hands over hers on his thighs, pulling her a little closer, making her scoot along the tree limb. His legs pressed against the outside of hers now, and she was close enough that he could duck his head and see hers.

Parker took a deep breath and picked her head up, that little furrow between her eyes. "But everything's different now. And I don't mean that I didn't care if you got hurt before but it's different now. And you want me to stay with you at night, and you got all happy when I brought my stuff to your room, and you touch me all the time even when we're not having sex and you _like_ me driving the rally car and you took me to see stars and you have sex with me differently." She took another breath. "And now I don't want you to get hurt, and I really don't want you to get hurt because of me."

It all filtered through Eliot's brain, and left him at the end with another smile. "Parker, you know what that is?" he asked her. She'd turned her head to stare out at the yard behind them, but her eyes slid to his and she nodded just a little. Eliot could feel the thump-thump of his heart beating double time, and somehow, he was ok with that. They didn't have to put a name on it yet. Especially not with Parker freaking just a little bit right now.

He tugged her closer, pulling her and risking his balance by lifting her up until she was pressed back against him. He wrapped his arms around her, leaning back into the tree trunk. "I like sleeping with you," he started. "I like waking up and seeing you still asleep, and knowing you're safe and happy. I like watching you get dressed, and knowing that there's no bra under there." He couldn't resist rubbing the side of one breast fondly, and held on while she squirmed just a tad. "I like touching you, full stop. I like the way your skin is soft and smooth and pale, and so different from mine. I _really_ like the way you move, on the mats, in a car and hell yes, in my bed." His voice got a little softer. "I like the way you look at stars like they're something as precious as your stash of diamonds, and I like knowing I can do something that puts that look on your face. I like the sound you make when you come in my arms." She shivered at that.

"When you care about someone, Parker," Eliot went on, really trying to keep himself on track. This mattered. "When you really care, you care about what happens to them." He bend his head and pressed his lips to the side of her head. "You want them happy and safe. So I make Darrien wish he was dead for touching you, and I'll take care of this Colombian. And you have my back, you're my extra eyes and extra hands if I need it." He rested his cheek against her hair. "Do you get what I'm saying?"

He felt her sigh as she slipped her arms to wrap on top of his. "I think so," she said.

He smiled into that silky blondness. "Ok," he said. "How 'bout we head back down to solid ground and see what Hardison's got for me?"

She hugged his arms a little tighter without moving. "Ok," she said. Then, "Eliot?"

"Yeah, darlin'?" he answered, a little distracted by the clean, tempting scent of her. That spot on her neck was right there…

She was quiet for a moment. "Never mind," she said, and swung out of his arms and down to the ground, leaving Eliot a bit baffled and with a shadow of a frown of his own to follow.

* * *

Anyone else wish that Eliot was real? *sigh* I sure do…


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Eliot sat back in the dark shadows of the bushes across the road and studied the hotel in front of him. Quiet, not very busy. Pretty well lit, he had to admit. That might make things a bit trickier, but nothing he couldn't handle. Honestly, the lack of cars in the parking lot made the extra light almost a non-factor.

He studied the light on in Room 253. He hadn't seen a shadow moving back and forth for a while, but the flickering of the tv was still apparent. The Colombian was in there, all right. He'd been out here for several hours now, watching. And in maybe another hour or so, he'd be ready to move.

His job had always involved a lot of waiting. Waiting for the right moment, the right angle, the right move, the right weapon… When he took a job, he would calculate all those 'right' things to get the payout he wanted. And he always got the job right. Always got the payout. Always delivered the goods, or took down the mark.

Tonight, his job was the man in the hotel room. For whatever reason, a piece of Parker's past had found her and was out to make her life difficult. He'd left her sleeping in his bed, back at the hotel. Peaceful, relaxed, and out like a light. Eliot's job, to his mind, was to change the man's mind one way or another. He'd considered just killing the guy, but was reluctant to cause that kind of mayhem in small town Pennsylvania. It would really muck up life for the locals in a way that the city didn't worry about.

Besides, he'd gotten used to the idea of breaking heads instead of snapping necks. Not that he wasn't willing and able to do so for the right reason, and Parker was definitely the right reason. But… he'd rather try it another way first.

He'd been sitting back in the bushes, well hidden in the dark night, for another twenty minutes or so before the hair rose on the back of his neck, and he shifted his weight silently before moving lightning fast to grab the person who'd crept up behind him. And then he swore softly and let them go.

"Dammit, Parker," he growled. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

Parker settled down next to him in the bushes, her pretty blonde hair tucked up under a black cap, and the rest of her covered in her usual black thief-clothes. "You're going to take care of the Colombian," she said.

"And?" Eliot grunted. "Doesn't explain you."

"I'm going to help you." She was very matter-of-fact, and even perhaps a touch surprised.

Eliot growled again. "I don't need your help on this, Parker."

He could sense her cocking her head and felt her eyes on him. "But who'll watch your back, otherwise?" she asked him. "Isn't that what my job is? You're supposed to keep us safe, and I'm supposed to be your back-up, right?" She was sitting very still, but he could feel the tension drawing her tighter. "I mean, I'm the thief, that's my job too, but you said I was your extra eyes and hands. And if I had extra eyes and hands, I'd use them when I was breaking into a vault, because then I could look for guards and stuff, which is what you do for me, so maybe you're my extra eyes and hands too…"

Eliot resisted the urge to heave a sigh. "Yeah, darlin'," he broke in. "You're right, I said that."

Parker was quiet for a few minutes, and Eliot thought that she was done talking for a while. He'd kept his eyes on the room, aware and ready for any change, but now he was letting his mind go back to the job at hand instead of focused on Parker. Right up until she opened her mouth again.

"So why did you try to come without me?" she asked, softly. "You got mad when I was going to go put the cameras in without you."

Well, crap. Eliot had kind of hoped that Parker wouldn't ask that. He didn't really want to answer it. He resisted the urge to rub his hands over his face, and instead kept himself still and calm in the dark shadows where they sat.

"Eliot?" Parker was getting quieter. He could see her head drooping a little. Christ, what was up with her? _Something_ was different from this afternoon, and dammit, he wasn't liking it. The frown behind her eyes, the timidness now… It wasn't his Parker.

He took a quick breath and then let it out. "I wanted to take care of this for you, Parker," he finally said. He shifted a little, letting his shoulder bump hers. "I wanted to make sure that you didn't have to worry about it anymore."

It might be dark, but he could still practically see the wheels turning in her head. "But how wouldn't I worry?" she finally asked. "Because you'd be doing something for me and you could get hurt. And…" she hesitated a little, "You said this afternoon that that was ok. For me to worry. And _I'd_ rather take care of it so you _wouldn't_ get hurt, but you also said that was your job. And I'm just so confused!" She finally broke off in frustration.

Eliot wanted to groan. This wasn't what he'd wanted, not at all. All he'd wanted was to take care of the problem that was facing his girl, make it disappear and be done with. Instead he had a confused woman who was probably feeling a little hurt that he'd left her behind, and a mid-level mercenary in the hotel room in front of him.

"I just wanted to take care of you, ok?" he finally said. "I wanted to just… take care of it," he finally ended, rather lamely.

Parker was quiet again. Maybe not as tense as earlier. She was thinking again, those wheels turning a little slower and less frantically.

"Is this more of… caring?" she finally said. "Doing something for the other person, even if you don't need to?"

Eliot gave in and reached over for her hand, lacing his fingers with her dark, gloved ones. "Yeah," he said.

"What about sneaking off behind their back to do a job that should have them in it?" she asked. "Is that caring, too?"

Eliot winced. Well, when you put it that way… frankly, he was getting the impression that Parker wasn't nearly as confused as he'd thought. Regardless, she was now letting him know that she wasn't happy with him, and put that way, he didn't blame her.

He sighed, and rubbed her fingers with his thumb. "Yeah," he admitted. "That, and maybe a measure of stupid." He risked looking away from the window and found those eyes he… well… found those eyes of hers in the dark. "I shoulda brought you," he said quietly. "Sorry."

She didn't blink at him for a long moment, then nodded a little and looked back at the hotel room. "Ok," she said.

"Ok," he echoed. They sat in silence then, fingers still laced together.

* * *

Some time later, Parker stirred again. "So what's the plan?" she asked.

Eliot nodded at the hotel. "Wait until he checks out for the night, slip in and rough him up enough until he decides to let you alone."

"Why would he do that?" Parker had a curious tone. "You'd just get mad and get even later, if someone did that to you."

Eliot sighed. "Yeah, it's a risk," he said. "But this guy isn't me. He's not… quite up to my level, I guess. He can still be scared off."

Parker nodded. "Ok," she said. She cocked her head a little, thinking. Clearly. "You can still get scared," she said a few minutes later. "You got scared when he was shooting at us in the car."

Eliot blinked a little. Huh. "Yeah," he finally said. "But that was because he could've hurt you."

Parker sounded puzzled. "That scares you?"

Eliot snorted a little, and unconsciously gripped her fingers a little tighter. "I… It scares me," he finally admitted. "Not being able to keep you safe, that scares me."

"And hurting me? Like with your nightmares?" Parker asked.

"Yeah," he said. Shortly, and not wanting to talk more about it. But of course, this was Parker, and things weren't going to be that easy.

"You don't get scared for you," she said. "You get scared for me. Do you get scared for Nate and Sophie and Hardison?"

Eliot blew out a breath. Jesus, she was asking hard questions tonight. "Yeah," he grunted. "But it's not the same."

She was nodding slowly. "Like how you care about me," she said. "It's different."

He softened a little. "Yeah, darlin'," he said, rubbing her fingers again. "Different."

Parker sighed a little, and settled a little closer against him. "I get scared, too," she confided.

"Really? What are you scared of?" he asked, tipping his head so that the side of his head rested against the top of hers. He was kind of curious what kind of things would scare his fearless thief.

Parker was quiet for a moment. "Drugs scare me," she finally said. "I don't like them. I don't like being on them. I don't like when people give them to me." Eliot immediately flashed to Darrien and his move at the bar the day before and wondered if he should go back and do something a little more to the guy.

Parker was toying with the cuff of his shirt now. "I don't like when you get hurt," she said. "I get scared that you won't get back up, that someone got you too hard. I get scared if I get stuck alone and can't help."

Eliot turned his head and pressed a kiss against her cap. She sighed again. "Eliot…" she started, then stopped.

"What is it?" he asked, softly. She'd been on the verge of asking, or maybe telling him something this afternoon, and it felt like she was back at that point again. Somehow he really really wanted to know what it was.

He felt her take a breath and open her mouth, and then stop. She tugged his hand. "The light's been out for a while," she said. "We should go."

Eliot felt strangely let down as he got up, carefully, cautiously. He started leading Parker forward toward the motel, and his mind turned to the job at hand. Some little part, however, stayed on the woman right behind him. He really wanted to know what she was going to say.

* * *

Whew! Wasn't sure I was going to get a chance to write this! Hopefully another chapter tomorrow… otherwise, it'll be next week. Enjoy!


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

In the end, it was almost pathetically easy. The Colombian, aka Enrique Rodriguez, pretty much peed his pants as soon as he figured out who Eliot was. Apparently, the man was familiar with Eliot's body of work. So to speak.

It hadn't taken very much at all for the man to 'agree' to leave Parker be. Parker'd followed instructions obediently for once, staying outside the room and keeping an eye out for any curious eyes while Eliot took care of things inside. She'd only stuck her head in the window twice, and that was fairly good for her. He hadn't been sure how far he'd have to go in order to persuade the man, but he'd known he didn't want Parker to see him hurt someone. It just… it stuck in his throat if she watched him break a man's fingers, one at a time. It wasn't the same as the damage he caused when he was buying her safe-cracking time.

In the end, he'd barely ruffled the man's feathers. Rodriguez had fallen all over himself apologizing when he'd realized that Parker was under Eliot's protection. Smart man. Eliot was willing to be egotistical enough to admit, he had been one of the best in the business. Scary, dangerous, and ruthless. Creative, too. And that rep was serving him well, even though he'd moved away from that kind of soul-darkening work.

At any rate, with the Colombian on his way back out of the country, Tiny Tim in lock-up thanks to some anonymous tips and Pitts currently trying to explain the reams of evidence of his illegal betting ring and sabotage of race cars to the authorities, they'd wrapped up their job. It was time to head back home, back to the city. Things had moved rather faster than Eliot had expected; apparently Hardison was really ready to get back to his own internet connection. It was amazing what the geek could do with the proper motivation.

Eliot had barely had a moment alone with Parker since they'd left the motel and Rodriguez, things had come to a head so quickly. Nate had called them on the drive back to their own motel to give them the heads up, and they'd been scrambling since.

* * *

Eliot tossed his bag in the trunk of the Camry, on top of Parker's. Sophie and Nate would fly back, Hardison had his own car. Eliot had every intention of being with Parker in his.

He closed the truck with a snap. In fact, he was planning on getting 'lost' on the way home. There were a couple of sites he wanted Parker to see. Not to mention he really really wanted to see if he could get her to say whatever it was that had been lingering on the tip of her tongue the past two days.

He leaned against the car and watched Parker walk toward him, that curiously energetic and mesmerizing walk of hers so obvious to him, but so oblivious to everyone else. Eliot smiled a little. He liked it that way. Not only was it safer for them all if the whole world didn't realize how incredibly hot Parker was, but it also meant he didn't have to worry about someone trying to make a move on his girl.

"Who's driving?" Parker asked cheerfully as she skipped to a stop next to him, hopping up on the trunk to sit.

Eliot kept his spot next to her, but turned his body into hers, his elbow resting on her knee. "Well, darlin', that depends," he drawled, tossing the keys loosely in one hand. He had to grin when, as expected, Parker couldn't resist the urge to snatch them out of the air before dropping them guiltily back into his.

"On what?" Parker asked, eyeing the keys again.

He turned so that he was standing between her knees, and rested his hands on her thighs. Lovely strong thighs, he thought, and squeezed gently.

"On how long we want to take to get home," he said, watching her with a smile in his eyes. "I figure, you drive, we're home fast. Me, I might take my time a little more, if you get my drift."

Parker blinked at him. "No," she said. "I don't get your drift."

Eliot bit back a sigh. Fine, he'd spell it out. "I'd like to take our time, Parker," he said. "Drive slow. Stop a lot. See a couple of things on the way." He nudged her nose with his. "Find a few out of the way spots where it'll be just the two of us." She grinned at that one and kissed him, and for a few moments, his brain was focused solely on her lips, her mouth, her taste and how hard it would be to work those pants off her without being seen in the parking garage.

Then he forced himself to pull back, and gave her an admittedly hungry grin. "Something like that," he said.

Parker was eyeing him like she would a untouched vintage safe from Nazi Germany. It was hot. "I think you can drive," she said.

Eliot grinned. "Sounds good," he told her, and started to step back. He was stopped, however, when Parker reached down and caught his hands against her legs. Eliot looked at her again, questioning.

Parker had a little furrow between her eyes as she studied him, and Eliot had a feeling that there was more than sex ideas going on in her head right now. "Eliot," she started slowly. His heart quickened. Maybe she was going to say whatever it was from before.

"Eliot, maybe we can both drive?" Parker finally said, those blue eyes meeting his, clear and honest and something else. Eliot furrowed his brow, knowing there was more to that question that she was saying. "I mean," she rushed on, "I did all the driving on the track, and you drove us around town, and that seemed to work pretty well, right? When we shared the driving?" She looked down at their hands, hers on top of his. "It just seems like it works when we share. The driving, I mean."

It was like a little light went on in his head. "Parker," Eliot said softly, and waited for her to raise her eyes back up to his. "There's no one I'd rather share the driving with than you, sweetheart," he said, his heart beating fast. "No one else I'm _going_ to share the driving with."

Parker's eyes were boring into his. "Not Sophie? Not Nate, or Hardison?"

He shook his head slowly, not looking away. "Not a chance," he murmured, drawing every so slightly closer to her. His hands slid up her thighs to her hips. "Different kinda car, baby."

"What about hot girls at a bar?" she asked, voice getting softer as he slowly, slowly pulled her down the trunk and up against his body. Her legs were wrapping around his waist as she spoke.

"I'd never let them drive," he said softly, faces close. "Wouldn't even let them in the car." A thought occurred to him, and he pulled back ever so slightly. "How 'bout you?"

Parker smiled, just a twitch of lips. "No one else has a drivers license," she said. "And no one else likes to drive with me." She gave him a solemn look. "I'm crazy, you know."

A chuckle was surprised out of Eliot as he pulled her closer again. "Yeah, darlin', you are, but you're the best kinda crazy," he said. "Suits me to a tee." He cocked his head at her. "So we share the driving?" he asked. "Just the two of us?"

Parker nodded slowly, her hands sliding up his chest to rest on his shoulders. Those long, slender, talented fingers toyed with the tips of his hair. "You're the only one who can drive with me," she finally said. "I don't think I've ever let anyone else drive."

Warmth bloomed in Eliot's chest, the kind that kept a man warm on the coldest of nights, in the darkest of holes and through the saddest of times. It started in his chest and spread out to his fingers and toes. It had him pulling her closer, closer until they were flush against each other, and his forehead was resting on hers. "No one but you, darlin'," he told her roughly. "No one but you."

And Parker grinned, quicksilver bright and hot and full of passion and fire and so much more that they'd put a name to later, much much later. "Ok," she said, and kissed him, hard. Then she pulled back and grinned again. "But I get to go first," she said, and slipped out of his arms and danced to the drivers side of the car.

Eliot blinked at the empty space where his thief used to be, then looked at her glowing face as she dangled the keys in the air, and finally laughed. "All right," he said, and stepped over to the passenger side. As he dropped into the seat, Parker slipped the keys in the ignition.

"Buckle up, Eliot," Parker said, eyes sparkling. She threw the car into reverse. "It's gonna be a great ride."

* * *

Awww…. I so enjoyed writing this ending. I hope you've all enjoyed this story, and thanks for all the reviews! As every writer says, it's the reviews that keep us going and coming up with more chapters and content. Thanks again!


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